The Pharaoh and Murder at the Palace
by Daimeryan Rei
Summary: After the death of the Great Pharaoh Akunamukanon, his son Atemu ascends to the throne. As soon as Priest Mahaado discovers that the late Pharaoh didn't die of natural causes, a certain thief is spotted around the Palace… now the priest has to fear for his life and that of his friends, as dark forces are closing around them quickly...
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Pharaoh and the murder at the Palace

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Characters/Pairings: Atemu x Mahaado, Aishizu x Mahaado (unrequited), High Priest Set x Kisara, Karim x Atemu, Mahaado x Karim x Atemu

Genre: action, adventure, romance

Summary: (AE, AU) After the death of the Great Pharaoh Akunamukanon, his son Atemu ascends to the throne. As soon as Priest Mahaado discovers that the late Pharaoh didn't die of natural causes, a certain thief is spotted around the Palace… now the priest has to fear for his life and that of his friends, as dark forces are closing around them quickly...

Author's note: Yu-Gi-Oh! and all its characters don't belong to me. No infringement on any copyrights is intended. Feedback is greatly appreciated. I don't pretend to give any accurate historical reflection of life in Ancient Egypt.

Key: - scene change

* * *

"Mahaado…I am a dying man."

"Great Pharaoh, please, do not speak like that."

The man coughed, tilting his head towards the young Priest sitting next to his bed.

"We both know it ends here. It is only because of your healing magic that I have made it this far."

Mahaado bowed his head solemnly, the fabric of his headpiece shifting over his shoulders. It was the only sound in the darkened room, besides the heavy breathing of the man in the bed. Pharaoh Akunamukanon wasn't afraid of dying. The illness that was taking its toll on him had changed nothing of his fierce, stern appearance, if only for his eyes being hollow and deep, his skin a sickly gray instead of bronze…

_Poison,_ Mahaado was sure of it. He gritted his teeth. The last few days had proven him completely powerless to this specific poison, no matter how many elaborate concoctions and potions he tried as an antidote. The Great Pharaoh would've died sooner without Mahaado's _heka_, and despite not feeling any pain, he was withering away quickly, suffering indignantly of the effects of the poison.

The Pharaoh heaved a sigh, immediately followed by a harsh coughing fit. Mahaado quickly reached to the left and took a goblet of water from the nightstand. He lifted it up to the man's lips. Akunamukanon drank thirstily, the water spilling over his chin, into his beard.

Mahaado dabbed at the Pharaoh's face with a clean piece of cloth, but the man batted at his hand with an annoyed, frustrated look on his face. He sank back into the pillows, another sigh spilling over his lips.

"I thought death would be more heroic," he said, chest heaving as he was laboring to draw the next breath. "Like a blaze of glory, going out like a hero on a battlefield, instead of lying in a bed, fighting for each intake of breath and feeling weak and tired."

"You will always be remembered as a hero, Great Pharaoh," Mahaado said, keeping an eye on the man to anticipate his next need. _How could someone have gotten so close to the Pharaoh to poison him? Something in his food? In his drink? How?_

"Remembered as the old man that died in his bed from a stupid disease," Akunamukanon repeated and coughed again. Mahaado hadn't dared to tell the Pharaoh his thoughts on the poison, as there was a slight chance he might be wrong…a very, very slight chance.

"Some forces are stronger in life than life itself," Mahaado said.

"Death is not the end of it," Akunamukanon mussed. "My ancestors will be happy to see me, and I will be happy to see them."

Mahaado nodded. This family line had been very strong, gifting Khemet with the most intelligent and fair of Pharaohs. It was due to Akunamukanon's ruling that wars had ended and peace was established between several nations. Under his reign, trade had boomed, structuring society into the well-oiled nation it was today. A silence fell between them, and Mahaado listened to the man's breathing, that went slower by the minute. He tried to muster up the courage to ask the Pharaoh if he wanted to see his son, as it was obvious that he was running out of time quickly.

"Mahaado," he suddenly spoke, voice surprisingly strong.

"Yes, Great Pharaoh?" Mahaado leaned into him, the Sennen Ring shifting with the movement. Akunamukanon lifted up his hand, fisting it into Mahaado's robes as if he wanted to pull him closer. The young Priest bowed his head.

"Mahaado," the Pharaoh said, "I want you to…take care of my son. Please look after him…"

"I will," the priest said, a little too quickly. He missed the sudden smile on the Pharaoh's face as he was looking down, and the elder man relaxed his grip a little.

"Atemu is a wonderful son…he will make an excellent ruler," the Pharaoh continued. "Still, I am afraid…he is so young, he does not need to be burdened with all these responsibilities so soon. And I am a little afraid that he tends to overly focus on one single thing, especially if his pride is in danger."

"I know," Mahaado softly chuckled.

"Please take good care of him. He needs someone as trustworthy as you by his side. He needs someone to…force him to take a step back when things get out of control. He has an even greater sense of justice than me…please make sure he will not get himself into something more than he can handle."

"I will," Mahaado said. "I promise, I swear to you that I will stand by his side and look after him."

"Thank you." Akunamkanon let go of Mahaado's robes, his hand falling limply on the embroidered bed sheets. "Your loyalty and dedication to our family has always been an anchor to me. I know I can count on you."

"Of course, Great Pharaoh…"

"I want to see my son," he interrupted him. Mahaado nodded, straightening himself. The moment had come, and this was something between father and son, not father and Priest. He left the large room quietly, looking into the long hallway. The other Priests of the Court – Priestess Aishizu, High Priest Set, Karim, Shaadah and Akunadin – quickly looked up, staring at him curiously. Mahaado shook his head briefly, and turned towards Atemu. The young prince was leaning against the wall, his hand tangled with Mana's. The girl was Mahaado's Apprentice and just a good friend of Atemu's as he was - the three of them had grown up together, with Mahaado taking the role of the elder brother and teacher. Her usually cheerful face was silent, an unnatural sight. The whole atmosphere was loaded with sadness and grief, and Mahaado could feel his heart break as he mouthed to Atemu to follow him. A ripple of rumors went through the people waiting outside; if the son had been called to the Pharaoh's bed, it wouldn't take much longer…

Closing the doors behind the prince, Mahaado turned to take his place among his fellow priests. Mana immediately latched onto him, barely able to withhold her tears. Normally he would've discouraged her – though never turn her away -, but he understood that she needed the consolation and the support, so he remained silent. A little clumsily, he moved his arm around her, in an awkward hug.

He looked at the other Priests. Aishizu, right in front of him, was like an open book: grief and sadness in her eyes, yet her gentle strength was shining through. She would share her kind words and compassion with everyone, neglecting her own grief until everyone else had been consoled. Mahaado made a mental note to keep an eye on her, so that the Priestess wouldn't overexert herself. Shaadah, next to Aishizu, looked stern and sad, his face a tight mask. He would keep all his sadness to himself, burying him in work until he was convinced he had dealt with the grief. Mahaado made a mental note as to keep an eye on Shaadah as well; the priest would rather work himself to death than to acknowledge his own sadness.

He didn't need to look at Set, standing next to him. The High Priest was like a statue, and talking to him about 'emotions' and 'feelings' would only result into a scolding lecture. Mahaado didn't know how Set would deal with grief; he probably would file it under 'G' and not bother to look at it again because it interfered with his usual schedule. Karim, standing on Set's left, would also try to console others first before thinking of himself; for such a tall, buff man he was surprisingly…compassionate. The last priest was Akunadin, someone Mahaado never knew how to deal with; the man would probably keep to himself as always, and not talk about his grief, if he was feeling any. For some reason, Mahaado thought that Akunadin didn't like to talk about emotions to anyone; the elderly Priest wasn't that much loved or favored.

The nation's vizier, Shimon Murat, was looking down, hands folded. He'd been the Pharaoh's advisor for so long and he was so close to the royal family that it felt like someone of his own family was dying. Shimon's age was unknown, but he was older than anyone in the Palace, and he'd seen generations come and go. The man had confessed to Mahaado to feel guilty, as his age far surpassed the Pharaoh's and yet the Gods had decided to take Akunamukanon, not him. Mahaado felt uncomfortable. _The Gods..? No, this had nothing to do with the Gods._

The doors to the royal quarters opened. Mana pressed closer to Mahaado, as if she wanted to crawl under his robes. Atemu closed the door behind him again; his face a cold, stone mask.

"The Gods have called for my father and he has answered," he said, voice too low for a young boy. "He will be with his father, and his father, and his forefathers, to rejoice in this new life, forever after."

Everyone in the hallway kneeled for their new Pharaoh, as custom described. Mahaado pulled Mana with him to force her to kneel as well. She had the greatest trouble refraining from crying, as Akunamukanon had been like a father to her.

Set was the first to rise again, his long robes rustling with the movement. His voice had no problems carrying throughout the whole hall, deep and forceful.

"All hail our new Pharaoh! Long live Pharaoh Atemu!"

The people repeated his words, not once, but twice. Atemu smiled a little watery, his eyes searching out Mahaado. But before he could talk to his friend and Priest, Set started ordering the clerics and other priests around.

"Prepare for the royal burial and the crowning ceremony! Send out declarations to let the entire nation know! If there are any problems or questions, you will come to me. No one is to bother our new Pharaoh!"

A flurry of people crowded the hallway before dissolving to follow up on all the orders. The other priests, with the exception of Mahaado, left as well, occupied with their tasks. Mana jumped forward as guards surrounded Atemu, and she easily slipped through their security. Just as she grabbed his hand again, a guard noticed her and pulled her away, roughly.

"Hey! Stay away from the Pharaoh!"

"Let me go!" Mana yelped. Atemu turned around, looking aghast at the guard who held Mana's wrist in a tight grip.

"Let her go, _right now!_" He barked, his voice lashing out. Everyone halted, frozen mid-step.

"Anyone touching this girl will be beheaded," he growled. "Let go of her _now_, or else..!"

Immediately the guard let go of her and Mana stumbled forward, rubbing her wrist indignantly. She turned around to wave her magic wand in the guard's face.

"If you ever do this to me again, I'll turn you into a fish!"

"That's enough." Mahaado's voice cut her off, calmly and composed. "The guards were only doing their work, Apprentice. Now, let us continue, there is much we need to do."

Mana grabbed Atemu's hand again and when she thought that no one was watching, she stuck her tongue out to the guard. Mahaado wasn't watching her indeed, too much caught in his own thoughts. The whole nation had been preparing for bad news, ever since the news about the Great Pharaoh's illness had been announced. It was the most confusing of times: mourning and grief for their late ruler, yet excitement and celebration of the coronation of the new Pharaoh. Death and life, sadness and joy, so close together. It…it just wasn't fair.

* * *

Karim came to walk next to Mahaado, the buff Priest easily keeping up with his stride. With Set being the master of ceremonies, all the preparations fell under the High Priest's watchful eye, and Karim had apparently taken that as an invitation to come along with the small group.

"What will happen now to our Pharaoh?" Karim whispered to him. Mahaado shook his head, lowering his voice to a whisper as well.

"He needs to rest, the last few days have been very hard on him," he said. "I will ask Mana to keep an eye on him, and get him something to eat to maintain his strength. He is going to need it to get through the burial, the coronation, and all his other obligations."

Karim heaved a sigh. "We have to assist our Pharaoh any way we can."

"We will," Mahaado answered, determined. The Pharaoh wouldn't expect anything less of his Priests. "For now, he must rest, and we need to attend to the late Pharaoh's needs."

"Who will announce the news in the city?"

"Set will send out his guards," Mahaado said. "It is going to be very busy, my friend. We have to keep the Court going, and take some of the pressure on our Pharaoh away."

"Very well." Karim halted, as they had arrived at Atemu's private quarters. The guards immediately took their positions next to the golden door panels. Atemu turned around to face the others, his posture strained and uncomfortable.

"I will be in my quarters if anyone needs me," he said, his eyes briefly resting on Mahaado and Karim before opening the door and entering his room. Mana was about to follow him, but at a short cough of her teacher, she stopped.

"Master?"

"Apprentice," Mahaado said, proud that she, even in this stressful moment, remembered the correct way to address him. "I want you to stay with our Pharaoh and make sure he eats and rests some. I will visit him later this evening. However," he focused his stern look at the guards, "no one but the Six Priests, my Apprentice and the vizier will pass these doors. If our Pharaoh is bothered by anyone else, I will deal with them as I see fit."

The guards bowed and reassumed their positions in front of the door, sharp spears ready to stop any intruder. Mahaado watched Mana enter the room, before he turned around and beckoned his fellow Priest to follow him. There was much work to be done.

Mana's heart weighed heavy and she fought against the tears about to spill. She had to be strong, for both her Pharaohs- she had come to see Akunamukanon as her own father as she grew up in the Palace. He had been so kind yet determined, and she had trusted him with her life. The Prince…no, Pharaoh now, was about to assume all his tasks and obligations…it was a daunting thought. Mana saw Atemu sitting on the sofa, his face blank as he was staring into nothingness. He had just watched his father die and keeping a tight mask was his way to fight off the tears and the despair now that his only relative had gone.

"Prince…eh, Pharaoh…"

"It is all right," he said. Atemu didn't mind how she called him either way, be it Prince or Pharaoh. Mana sat on the sofa next to him and searched out his hand again. It was her way of consoling him, of telling him that she was there for him. She wasn't good with words, or so she thought; she had the tendency to babble and go on and on about nothing really important at all. At this moment though, she was sure Atemu needed wise words of consolation and encouragement, words that Aishizu would speak in her soothing, deep tone of voice, that made anyone instantly feel better. Mana rested with her head on his shoulder, sighing softly. No words were said, and her fingers entwined themselves with Atemu's.

A modest knock on the door awoke her and she gasped. As her muscles protested from the cramped position they had been in, Mana realized that she had fallen asleep! Atemu was sitting like a statue, silent and emotionless, but she noticed the dark, black streaks on his cheeks, as the kohl around his eyes had smeared. Her best friend had been crying for the loss of his father, and she had fallen asleep on his shoulder! Mana felt horrified and remorseful. How could she have fallen asleep while her best friend needed her the most? Another knock on the door, this time more urgent.

"Would you…?" Atemu asked, voice soft.

"Of course." Mana quickly got up from the sofa and went to answer the door. A servant bowed and handed her a tray. She thanked him and brought the tray over to Atemu, carefully balancing it on her hands.

"Here, have something to eat."

"I am not hungry." Atemu ignored the tray with the bowls and plates on it, not interested in the figs, the cheese or the bread. Mana took one of the silver goblets and poured some wine from the silver carafe. Filling it half up, she used the other carafe with crystal clear water to dilute the wine. She handed the goblet to him.

"Drink some, for me," she pleaded. Atemu took the goblet from her, distraught. Mana took his other hand and pressed a fig with a slice of cheese onto his palm

"Please, if only for me," she urged him. Finally, he nibbled some of the fig, but not to his heart's content.

"After you're finished, you're going to rest," she said. "And I won't take 'no' for an answer, Prince, so…"

"Atemu," he interrupted her. "My name is Atemu, Mana."

"I'm not allowed to speak the Prince's name…"

"I am a Pharaoh now, and my rule is that you address me with my name, when we are in private quarters," Atemu said. "We have been friends for so long, Mana. It would be wrong if we allow our positions to come between us."

"You're right." Mana smiled a little goofily, yet she felt excited. Receiving the Pharaoh's permission to call him by his name was something very special! Carefully, she tried to call out his name.

"Atemu," she said and giggled. Such childish behavior wouldn't do, and she straightened herself, becoming more serious. "Atemu," she repeated, "I want you to take some rest after you've finished that slice of cheese."

"There is a lot of work to be done." Atemu sipped the wine from the silver goblet. "I have to answer to my duties and plights."

"You don't have to," she said. "I mean, not now. Set has the supervision on all the preparations and duties at the moment." She spoke rather familiarly of the Priests in Atemu's presence, especially when she couldn't be overheard. Referring to the six Priests with all their respective titles got annoying and bothersome pretty fast to the girl. Mana noticed that Atemu had finished the fig and quickly pressed another one in his hand. "You can leave it all to him."

Atemu chewed on the fig, motions slow and pensive. "I know I can trust Set, but I am Pharaoh now, and it is my duty to meet my people and take up my responsibilities as their ruler."

"I'm at your side," Mana said, almost cheerfully. "And my Master will be, and together we'll stand strong!"

He smiled at her words, knowing that she spoke the undoubted truth. "I could not ask for better advisors."

"Now eat some more," she urged him again, but let it slide as soon as he shook his head. Apparently, two figs were all that he could handle at the moment, and it was of no use to continue imposing. Mana took a slice of bread herself, her stomach rumbling. She ate in silence, keeping an eye on Atemu.

"Go lie down," she said softly. "I'll keep watch over you."

"I can not," he protested, but his voice lacked vehemence. "How can I rest when there is so much work to do?"

"Come," Mana said as she stood up and she reached for his hand again. Her gentle smile and insistence made Atemu cave in, and he stood up as well. Before she took him to the bedroom, she handed him a piece of cloth so he could clean his face and hands. She hadn't mentioned the dark streaks on his cheeks, still feeling guilty about not being there when he had needed her the most. She made a stern vow to herself to keep watch over him indeed, and not forsake her vow this time.

At the threshold of the bedroom, Mana let go of his hand. These were Atemu's private quarters, and she blushed at the thought of following him into his bedroom! He turned towards her.

"Thank you," he said. "I will do my best to rest properly."

"Prince," Mana said, her cheeks flushed. "I will be here to watch over you, as I promised."

"I know." He went into his bedroom and Mana scolded herself mentally. She didn't feel tired due to her short nap earlier, and she usually was quite energetic… maybe she could continue practicing some spells, while the Pr… Pharaoh was asleep? She realized that Atemu hadn't corrected her when she had called him Prince. She chalked it up to him being tired. Mana wished to be closer to him, like sitting on his bed, to watch over him while he slept. She longed to brush the wayward strands out of his face and to touch his cheek, his warm skin. Maybe it was more intimate and closer than friends normally would interact, but Mana's innocence, her warm personality and her desperate need to take care of her best friend as well as she could, made her overlook any boundaries.


	2. Chapter 2

The beautiful dancers moved in perfect unison to the music, their colorful clothes floating through the air as if they could follow the tones of the instruments: the arghul, the tambourine, the sistrum and the small, round drums. Mana took it all in excitedly, having never seen a feast like this before. The coronation of the new Pharaoh wasn't just like any feast, of course. The banquet was overloaded with fresh fruit, vegetables, poultry, game and fish; the servants worked hard to keep everyone satisfied. Mana was eyeballing the large melon, carved in intricate slices, hoping to steal some for dessert. Atemu sat at the head of the table, flanked by his Priests. It was a small consolation that at least Mahaado was in his vicinity; with so many people around - Mana didn't know who all these delegates and representatives were, but they were important enough to attend the coronation - she was unable to protect Atemu. She had her wand with her, but she hoped it wasn't necessary to pull it out to perform a spell.

Aside from the guests, guards were also present at the banquet; not to eat, but to protect the Pharaoh. Even though Mahaado hadn't told his theory about the former Pharaoh being poisoned, he had insisted that the new, young Pharaoh would be well-guarded. He didn't need much to convince Set about extra guards. The men, despite being everywhere, sort of blended into the background. Should any trouble arise, they would be able to intervene quickly. Mana felt safe, but not at ease. The death of the late Pharaoh, the changes all around, Atemu's new position… she didn't like how their world had been turned upside down. Mana was smart enough to realize that Atemu would ascend the throne sooner or later, but she had hoped that that day would be far, far away.

At the head of the table, Karim leaned a little into Atemu. "Great Pharaoh," he said gravely, "you should really eat more than two bites. There is still a whole evening you need to get through."

"I know, Karim, thank you," Atemu said and tried to eat another spoonful. Shimon, on his other side, put a slice of bread next to his plate.

"You have to be strong, Pharaoh," the vizier said. "The entire nation is looking up at you now for hope and guidance. Have faith in yourself, and have faith in your people. You are young and still vulnerable, but you inherited your wisdom and your intelligence from your father. I just know you are going to lead Khemet to great heights."

Atemu gave a weak smile. "Thank you, Shimon," he said, "but I cannot do this all alone."

"The Court is always here to assist you," Karim offered generously. He spoke for all of the Priests, and Atemu was convinced of their loyalty. He didn't want to become too dependant on his Priests or his vizier. A lot of his obligations and duties were his and his alone to bear, and he wasn't about to disappoint anyone. Determined, he finished the rest of his plate much to Karim's satisfaction, and he straightened his posture, preparing himself mentally for the rest of the evening.

The speeches were many and boring, but Atemu listened attentively to each and every one of them and made sure to personally thank the speakers for the wishing wells, blessings and other traditional tokens of respect. The officials and delegates offered him many gifts and thanks to Set's strict organization, no one was left out (or allowed to speech for too long). Still, the evening hadn't come to its end. Everyone went silent when Akunadin came into the room, the eldest Priest carrying a cushion embroidered with gold threads and large tassels at each corner. In the middle was the Sennen Puzzle, majestically draped on the fabric; the ultimate Item of power, only to be worn by the Pharaoh, symbol of his power.

Atemu was silent as he listened to the traditional lecture, read by Set from ancient scrolls, about responsibilities, duties and plights. His eyes were glued to the golden object. Not a few days ago, it had hung around his father's neck, dangling on his chest, and he hadn't known him any better than wearing this particular… pendant. Set rolled up the scrolls, having finished the text, and Akunadin stepped up to Atemu's chair, sliding the cord over his head. The Puzzle came to rest against his chest, its weight heavy, almost uncomfortable, and Atemu tugged at the cord as if he could adjust it to his liking. The upside-down pyramid with the Eye on the front represented his plight and heavy duty as a Pharaoh, yet he felt oddly.. consoled by the Item. Steeling himself, Atemu rose up from his chair, noticing all the eyes focused on him, as he was about to deliver his first speech as Pharaoh.

He was only thirteen, an adult at his age, who had lost his father a few days before. He wasn't afraid to speak to the crowd – he was sure they would listen to every word, simply because he was the Pharaoh. Right now, with the first word coming over his lips, he wasn't Atemu anymore, he was the Pharaoh, the living personification of the Gods, their Son who would rule in their name. He opened his mouth and parting his lips. He was a representative of the Gods, and the words seem to come on their own. Atemu had carefully memorized what he was going to say, but these weren't the words he had written down earlier in preparation. This was his own promise, his own pledge, his very own oath to help his people, to take care of his nation, to do his very best to keep and maintain peace, to be fair and right and serve the Gods. He felt drained when he finished, but basked in the overwhelming applause and the loud chant of "Pharaoh! Pharaoh!". The approving nods of his Priests and Shimon meant more to him and he showed them a confident smile. He would stand strong, no matter what.

* * *

_Two years later_

Atemu was bored. The great Pharaoh of upper and lower Khemet was bored to tears. It wasn't because of the Syrian delegate talking and talking, it wasn't because of the excessive heat of the last days that warmed the entire Palace through and through, it wasn't because of the massive workload waiting for him in general, it was the combination of everything. Atemu wanted to take a nap, preferably in a bed with cool, fresh sheets, and with some servants waving fresh air to him with large palm leaves.

"…and so, exalted ruler, I will be awaiting your decision in this."

Atemu mentally thanked his father for his strict upbringing – and for teaching him the trick to keep an interested yet stern look on his face even though he wandered way off with his thoughts. It was nothing compared to Set's extremely stern, statuesque look with his fierce blue eyes and thin, disapproving lips. The High Priest slipped every now and then, showing a scowl or a menacing glare if or when he disagreed.

"I thank you," Atemu said. "Your plea has been heard, and I will take your arguments into consideration. You will be received again within three days to hear my answer."

The Syrian delegate made the proper gestures to bid Atemu goodbye and escorted by a few guards, left the grand Throne Room. As he'd been the last of the speakers, Atemu made a gesture with his hand.

"We will take a short recess," he said. The Priests relaxed, slumping even, now that they didn't need to stand up as straight as a ruler.

Set immediately turned towards Atemu. He never slumped. "Why are we still listening to any of those Syrians?" He snorted. "You know they are all but dying to steal land from us, or to invade our borders as soon as we turn our head into the other direction."

"Then we have to stay focused," Atemu said, curtly. "This delegate came to me with sound objections. There must be a way we can maintain our peace treaties and trade covenants."

"They are nothing but little children." Set snorted again. "They keep trying to see how far they can go, to test your boundaries, Great Pharaoh. They only want things done their own way."

"We will not blame them for trying," Atemu said.

"We will blame them for wasting our time," Set counter-attacked.

Mahaado tilted his head a little, having lost his interest in the conversation. His eyes drifted through the large Throne room, waiting for a servant to bring him a refreshment. Aishizu was supervising the servants and giving out some orders, while Karim stood in the corner with Shaadah, talking about nonsensical things. Akunadin was simply staring at nothing, as usual. What was the man thinking? Mahaado wished that he could read minds, every now and then. Shimon was standing next to a tall pillar, also lost in thought. Mahaado didn't need to read _his _mind; the vizier was more than probably thinking of the next task at hand. He kept a very strict schedule and he had a sharp eye for everything that needed to be done and taken care of at a Royal Palace. Despite his age, Shimon was quite fit and more than adequate than many of his peers; he'd been in Akunamukanon's service for decades, and it was a logical step that he would continue his tasks in the late Pharaoh's son's service.

Mahaado wondered sometimes how old Shimon was, but he didn't dare to ask such an impolite question. He focused his thoughts on something else. Priesthood could be quite boring, sometimes. Especially when the entire day was filled with tedious meetings like these: endless discussions and conversations about topics that weren't really productive. Mahaado wobbled a little from one foot to another, if only to give his stiff muscles an opportunity to move and relax. He'd been standing straight for hours on end. Every now and then, Atemu would hold a public audience, in which even the simplest commoner could ask him a question. The Priests were shocked at first, the mere thought that a peasant could be so close to a son of the Gods was just devastating, but Atemu held his nation, and the common people, in high regard. "I am not much of a ruler if I do not listen to my people," Atemu had said, and not one of the Priests had protested, not even Shimon.

He almost wished Mana was around to liven up the place or at least bring a bit of laughter. His Apprentice had been studying tediously, for which he commended her. She had quite the _heka _to…he was interrupted in his thoughts when Aishizu all but cried his name – not in panic, but a sharp call for his attention. He immediately knew what was going on and quickly moved forward so he was in front of Atemu. He upheld his robe, catching a dart in the folds of the fabric.

"Guards!" Set bellowed, and slight panic broke out; people ran back and forth, dropping whatever they had been carrying, and the servants ran away, making sure not to be in the guards' path.

"There he is!" On the balcony, a man clad in a simple, shoddy shenti, was already dropping to his knees as the guards encircled him, spears at his throat. A blow pipe and another dart were next to his left knee; one of the guards kicked it away, but the man didn't make a move to retrieve his weapon.

"Bring him here!" Set made a dramatic movement with his arm. Mahaado picked up the dart very carefully, with his hand wrapped in his robe. Set noticed his fellow Priest's gesture and asked: "What is it?"

"I need to study this," Mahaado answered. "It would have killed our Pharaoh if I had not been able to catch it…" He couldn't see if the extremely sharp dart had been coated with poison. He shivered at the thought of Atemu being hit with it. Aishizu had the gift of predicting the future, with the help of her Sennen Item, the Tauk - she had foreseen the perpetrator, and how he was attempting to kill the Pharaoh…

"Lousy thieves," Set mumbled. Mahaado gave the dart to a servant who caught it in a linen cloth, and ordered him to bring it to his study room. Then, he turned around to see how Atemu was doing. Slightly irritated, he noticed Karim standing next to him, a little bit too close to his taste.

Schooling his face in a perfect neutral expression, Mahaado was about to say something when a slight ruckus caught his attention. The assassin tried to break free, struggling in the grip of the guards. Set looked like he was about to kill the man, his fingers tight around his Item, the Sennen Rod. Only the Priests were aware of the dagger concealed in the Item.

"How did you sneak past the guards?" Set wanted to know, and Mahaado could hear the anger in his voice, not only directed at the prisoner, but also at himself. The High Priest was in charge of the palace guards and he took his task very, very seriously.

The man didn't answer, his defiance completely gone. His eyes were wide, and focused on the spears, pointed at his throat. He sweated all over his body. Set made a disdainful noise.

"Fine. If you are not going to answer to me, then you are going to answer to all of us," he brusquely said.

"Set!" Atemu spoke for the first time since the accident, and all the Priests snapped their heads at him. Mahaado felt relief that Atemu wasn't shocked or upset, but on the other hand, he hated seeing Atemu so perfectly composed like this, as if the assassination attempt didn't bother him at all. "He is afraid. You will gain nothing by threatening him."

"If the Great Pharaoh knows an adequate way to make him answer, I will listen," Set retorted dryly.

Shimon was appalled. "Set! Don't be so disrespectful."

"It is all right," Atemu said, and raised his hand, calming everyone down. "Look at him. He wears nothing but a shenti, torn and filthy. He is too afraid to talk. It is obvious that he was promised gold to do this, and in his despair he put his own life at stake."

Set didn't flinch, but Mahaado knew from the narrowed eyes and the tight frown that the High Priest wasn't going to forget this little correction anytime soon. He looked back at the prisoner, the man still sweating, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. At Atemu's hand gesture, the guards pulled back the spears a little, leaving the man some room to breathe. The prisoner immediately threw himself to the ground, his scrawny body shaking and shivering. Atemu stood up from his throne, with Karim immediately stepping next to his side. Mahaado made a mental note to talk to his fellow Priest, suddenly realizing that _he_ wanted to be next to Atemu. The trembling prisoner kept his nose to the floor and mumbled prayers. Atemu halted in front of him.

"Look up," he said.

The man kept his head low, almost kissing the floor. One of the guards used the other end of his spear to lift the man's chin up.

"Obey your Pharaoh!"

Forced, the man looked up, grimacing toothlessly, his eyes firmly closed.

"I will not allow any harm to come over you," Atemu said, soothingly.

Set snorted loudly in the background, obviously disagreeing with Atemu's approach. Akunadin stood next close to him, hands crossed in front of his chest, fingers clutching at the folds of his robe. Aishizu and Shaada watched with tensed expressions on their faces.

"No harm will come over you," Atemu repeated. He gestured at the guards that they had to retreat completely. They exchanged confused glances and looked at the High Priest for approval, muttering under their breaths. Atemu frowned, and the guards stepped back, but kept a tight grip on their spears

"You must have been very desperate to do this," Atemu continued. "You were promised gold to take this risk, right?"

Finally, the prisoner nodded. Sweat rolled over his forehead, and he blinked a few times to keep it out of his eyes. He licked his lips, keeping his eyes closed again.

"Who promised you the gold?"

The man shook his head firmly. Shimon took a few steps forward, flanking Atemu on the right, where Karim was still on the left.

"Please answer your Pharaoh," he said, taking the same approach as Atemu. The man's fear had nothing to do with the guards anymore. There was something else that struck fear into the prisoner.

"I…" the man licked his lips again. "I can't…"

His speech was rough, with an accent that Shimon recognized as from the far south. This man had traveled a long way to come to the Palace, hiding among the people who were waiting in line for the public audience. Somehow, he had managed to find a way to the balcony, without being noticed, and he had set up his deadly attempt to kill the Pharaoh…

"Please tell me," Atemu said. "I will…"

"I can't tell you!" the man shouted. "I can't!"

"Then describe it to us," Shimon said, using a fatherly tone of voice. "Give us some information about who promised you the gold. Remember that the Pharaoh is honorable and merciful to you, you who tried to take his life. You would do well to answer to that honor and mercy."

The man kept his eyes closed, and shook his head again, more and more furiously. "I can't…he'll kill me! I want to see my wife and children again..! Please, just let me go…"

"You tried to kill the Pharaoh." Shimon dropped the fatherly act. "You will give us information. A description, or a name…we just cannot let you go. For that, your crime was too severe."

"A thousand gold pieces!" The man spoke hastily. "Thousand…thousand!" He kept repeating the number as in a trance. Atemu looked quizzically at Shimon.

"We'll give you the thousand gold pieces if you tell us who ordered you to kill our Pharaoh," he said.

"Ridiculous! You are going to reward him?" Set exclaimed, his voice carrying easily through the entire Throne Room. He was clearly ticked off, tapping on the lower half of the Sennen Rod, the part wherein the dagger was concealed. Mahaado really didn't wish to be a prisoner in Set's clutches, but he had to agree with his fellow Priest: the Pharaoh was far too lenient.

"Great Pharaoh, we better judge this man with our Items," he suggested. Every Priest had an Item, one of the powerful seven Sennen Items; they could determine if there was any evil in this man, and draw out any wicked _kaa_ and imprison it. Atemu looked over his shoulder, holding up his hand as if signing to wait.

"I can't…I can't tell…" the prisoner kept repeating, body trembling violently. "A thousand gold pieces…"

"Great Pharaoh, we should hold him incarcerated until there's a better time for him to talk," Shimon said. "He needs to calm down. We…"

"He'll kill me! Kill me!" the man interrupted the vizier, his eyes bulging, his voice cracking under the loudness of his screams and shouts. "The King of-"

Karim grabbed Atemu and unceremoniously pushed him away from the prisoner as the man spat out blood and keeled over.

"Enough with the charade!" Set stepped forward, his sharp eyes immediately noticing the arrow protruding from the man's back. "Bring the Pharaoh to his quarters and guard him! Comb out the Palace and bring everyone suspicious to me! Have all the commoners guarded and brought to one room for interrogation!"

"Set!" Atemu protested, but Karim had already wrapped an arm around him and lead him away, not paying any attention to his protests. Shimon, who had been surprised by the turn of events, looked in horror at the blood spatters on his robes, then to the dead prisoner.

"Find the one responsible for this!" Set snarled, pointing with his Sennen Rod to the man on the floor. "Have this taken care of, _now_!"

Mahaado decided to stay in the Throne Room and help to contain the chaos. He had to trust his fellow Priest to take care of the Pharaoh, though he still had to suppress a fit of jealousy quite forcefully.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're safe here, Pharaoh." Karim closed the large, heavy doors behind him and lead Atemu through the small antechamber to the living room. Atemu had refused to move into his father's chambers; it didn't feel right to him. His own quarters were adjusted and decorated to his every wish; he particularly enjoyed the large balcony with the wide, open doors. All of the Priests had protested against this particular wish, pointing out that gods-know-who could climb up to the balcony and enter the Pharaoh's living quarters through those doors.

As if he could read Atemu's thoughts, Karim closed the doors to the balcony as well, and pulled the linen curtains also close, covering up the doors. He went on to inspect every nook and cranny of the living room, and Atemu let him be. He went to the large dresser in the corner and dipped his hands in the golden bowl, filled with cool, fresh water. Carefully, he dipped his face with a wet cloth, noticing that his hand trembled. Someone had tried to kill him, and if it weren't for his loyal priests, he wouldn't have lived to tell the tale.

"Pharaoh?"

Atemu startled out of his thoughts and snapped his head to the right. "Yes, Karim?"

"Everything is all right, Pharaoh," the Priest answered, stepping closer to him. "I have checked all of the rooms."

"Thank you."

"It has been quite the scare," Karim continued. "We came very close to a tragedy today."

"I hope Set can find the true culprit," Atemu answered. He put the damp cloth next to the bowl. The assassin had been terrified, but not of the Pharaoh, or the Priests, or being held prisoner with sharp spears pointing at him.

"He was yelling 'King of…' something," Karim said and he frowned. "He was about to say a name, just before he was killed."

"Yes, the name of the one who was going to kill him if he talked." Atemu sighed and turned away from the dresser. He went to sit down on one of the sofas, but before he could recline into the cushions, Karim's hands were on his shoulders.

"Karim..?"

"Careful," the tall Priest said, albeit a little sheepishly. "This sofa has a solid wooden backrest. You would hit your head, Pharaoh."

"Ah, I see." Atemu felt a little stupid. With so much furniture in his living quarters, he had any choice to sit down, wherever he wanted; but until now, he had avoided this particular sofa just because of the hard, wooden backrest. Karim didn't withdraw his hands. Atemu stared at his Priest, trying to find something, any kind of emotion on his face; but there was nothing but genuine care and devotion. He was very fortunate to be surrounded by such loyal, trustworthy people who cared so much for him. Before he knew it, Atemu put his own hand over Karim's, a gesture that the Priest took as an invitation to sit down with him.

"Don't worry, Great Pharaoh," he said. "No harm will come over you. We swore to protect you with our lives."

"I know." Atemu was aware of the oaths his Priests had to take before they were accepted into his Court, and he knew that they took all these oats and vows extremely seriously. Set, Karim and Mahaado wouldn't hesitate for a second to sacrifice themselves, and he wouldn't even have to ask. Aishizu too, Shaadah probably as well. Akunadin? Atemu wasn't all too sure about the man, but he had served his father, and so he would continue his trust. However, it was all a moot point - Atemu would never ask anyone to give up their life for him. The knowledge that most of his Priests would, without batting an eye, was almost too much to bear.

He heaved a sigh again, faintly noticing that he still held his hand over Karim's and he dropped it, back into his own lap.

"You need to recover from the shock," Karim said. "Is there something specific you wish for me to do, Great Pharaoh?"

Atemu shifted a little, wishing he'd sat anywhere else but on this awkward sofa. Karim put a few pillows behind his back.

"I want to know who is behind all of this," he said. "I want to know who has planned this attack on my life, and who is able to put so much fear into a single man that he refuses to speak, even to me… and how it was possible to kill him from a distance."

"I'm sure Set will have those answers very soon," Karim answered, steadfast. When Set put himself to a task, he wouldn't rest until he'd gotten onto the very bottom of it, especially when lives were at stake.

"I am sure he will." Atemu was distraught. He couldn't get past what the prisoner had yelled. "King of…" _King of what?_

He shivered again, and Karim pulled him a little closer.

"How many guards?"

"Six guards are outside," Karim said, "do you wish for guards inside your quarters as well?"

"No," Atemu was quick to answer. He wanted to keep at least some of his privacy, and he didn't like the idea of having guards all over and so close to him. But on the other hand, if one man could succeed in coming that close in an attempt to murder him…

"We'll do anything to keep you safe," Karim repeated. "No measure is drastic enough to ensure your safety, Great Pharaoh."

"I am sure I am safe here," Atemu murmured, his other hand resting on his Puzzle. It was a symbol of the Pharaoh's power, and as far as he knew, it didn't possess any specific powers - and it sure hadn't protected him from the oncoming dart. Karim dropped his hand, covering Atemu's on the Puzzle.

"We don't want to lose another Pharaoh so soon again."

Two years…two years since Akunamukanon, his father, had died. Atemu wished for his father to be still alive, and to advice him in this matter. He remembered his father's lessons and warnings for jealousy surrounding him, envy at his Court, people with less than beneficial intentions, people who outright hated him, simply for what he was…had he, Atemu, become lax with security measures, had he been so trusting that he had closed his eyes for his father's warnings?

A loud knock on the door startled Karim and the Priest withdrew his hands, dropping them to his own lap and folding them together. It was faintly amusing, and Atemu suddenly noticed his own face, fairly heated.

"Enter!" he called.

Mahaado swiftly barged into the room, needing only a few seconds to notice Atemu and Karim on the sofa, the Pharaoh sporting reddened cheeks and Karim a smug smile that the Priest wasn't used to see of his colleague.

"Great Pharaoh," he said, bowing to him appropriately, "so far, we have not been able to catch the perpetrator who is responsible for…" _the mess in the Throne Room,_ he was about to say, but corrected himself at the very last second, "…for the untimely death of the man who attempted to harm you. I have yet to research the dart, but I have my suspicions that it is poisoned."

"Be very careful, then," Atemu urged him, shifting a little to face Mahaado. His leg touched Karim's with this movement, and his blush deepened. Mahaado pursed his lips but didn't comment – after all, he was just a Priest in his Pharaoh's Court, and it wasn't his place to criticize the son of the Gods…or feel this ridiculously jealous. Mahaado barely noticed his hands fisting themselves in his robes, fingers clenching at the fabric.

"I suggest that my Pharaoh rests for the afternoon," he finally said, bowing to Atemu again. "It will be of no use to continue the audience, as most of us are occupied with our latest orders."

"Very well. I will stay inside as you continue to sweep the Palace, but I will not rest. There is enough work for me to be done here, and I will speak to each and every one of you accordingly, as soon as you have news for me."

"As the Great Pharaoh wishes," Mahaado said and shot Karim a deathly glare. The Priest, who had put his Sennen Scale on the floor, shifted a little nervously with his feet, almost tipping the Item over.

"Karim will stay here with me to help with the paperwork," Atemu said. "I trust you, Mahaado, to keep me up to date concerning the events, and I would like to talk to Set later, before dinner."

"As the Great Pharaoh wishes," Mahaado repeated, his cheeks coloring red of jealousy. He didn't understand why he reacted so…furiously all of the sudden. He'd spend more time than anyone with the Pharaoh, growing up with him, seeing him mature from Prince to Pharaoh. Even Mana, who came second close to Atemu, hadn't spent as much time with him as he had. He shouldn't be so jealous, it wasn't becoming of him…

Mahaado left the room, sensing the cramped, tensed position of his hands and slowly let go, releasing the folds of fabric. Karim was a good man, hard working and loyal to the Pharaoh…but perhaps a little _too_ loyal. No one could deny the beauty of their Pharaoh; his crimson red eyes, the strong features of willpower and determination on his face, his small lips, the contrast of the intense gold he wore on his deep, tan his skin, his slim but taut body, his long, slender fingers…Mahaado blushed even deeper. He had never thought of his Pharaoh like this until recently. He was his friend…he couldn't be thinking of Atemu as anything else but his Pharaoh, one he had sworn loyalty to. He needed to focus on his task at hand, not fantasizing how his hand would feel running through his hair. To distract himself quickly from that particular train of thoughts, Mahaado searched out his Apprentice; he had to tell her that a poisonous dart had been brought to his study, and as she liked to poke and prod at anything, she better not touch it before anything else…

As he turned around the corner, he bumped into his fellow Priest, not Mana. "Aishizu," Mahaado said, bowing to her. The Priestess returned the courteous bow.

"Mahaado," she mumbled, and her hand went to her Sennen Tauk. Like all the Priests, she had the urge to touch the Item she was responsible for every now and then; there was a strong connection between Item and Priest.

"I have to thank you," Mahaado said. "If it were not for you calling out to me, I would not have been able to catch that dart and save our Pharaoh's life."

Aishizu nodded. "The Tauk gave me a glimpse of what would happen," she said. "It's one of the most fickle Items, but when it works properly…" her voice trailed off. Mahaado put his hand on her shoulder, wanting to console her. It was hard for her, this life amongst the male Priests, with no one really to confide in. Mahaado wondered sometimes if she felt lonely – she often was in Shaadah's company, and they usually held long and tedious philosophical discussions. She probably saw the bald Priest, wielder of the Ankh, as her best friend.

"What did you see?" He was almost too afraid to ask. Aishizu shivered violently.

"I saw our Pharaoh, slumped in his Throne, dead," she said. "Hit by the dart, death almost instantaneously. So young, and nothing we could've done to help him…"

Mahaado shivered as well. This was something he'd rather not think of, his biggest nightmare of them all. He cleared his throat.

"Did your Tauk show something else? The one behind all this?"

She shook her head. "It showed me darkness," her voice was soft and timid, but her words cruel and cold. "Dark entities. Darkness in people. Hatred and rage, and something even more ominous, but I couldn't exactly see what, or who…I need some time to arrange these images."

"You have to be careful," Mahaado answered, worriedly. He didn't like her words at all. Dark entities? Darkness in people? What could she be talking about? The glimpses, or rather, the visions that the Tauk granted her wielder to see, were for the wielder only. Mahaado couldn't help her in this, as much as he wanted to. The possible future was for Aishizu to interpret; she knew her Item best. He felt like there was something more, though; when Aishizu spoke about her visions, she never digested the full scope of it. It wasn't his position to pry and to impose on her.

Gently, he touched her cheek. "If you need any help…"

She looked up at him, a slow smile showing on her face. "I know, Mahaado. I have to do this alone. These visions…"

"I know. Will you tell the Pharaoh about this?"

"Of course. He needs to know…" Her voice trailed off again. She was about to ask him something, but she didn't. Mahaado waited patiently for the Priestess to start speaking again, but she remained silent. He couldn't get any grip on her, or on her thought process.

"I will escort you to your quarters," he offered, knowing that the small gesture would be of some consolation to her. Indeed, when he saw her eyes lit up, he knew he's said the right words.

* * *

"Peasants!" High Priest Set snorted out loud. "Commoners, morons, idiots! Our Pharaoh wastes his precious time listening to their wailing and complaining, and his kindness is repaid by an attempt to kill him. Imbeciles!"

"Now Set, don't be too hasty to judge." Priest Akunadin, sitting opposite of the other, knew better than to correct his younger, fellow Priest, but his voice lacks vehemence. He knows how Set reacts to a stressful reaction, after all these years of working together and sharing the same study. His wrinkled hands reached for the papyri on Set's desk.

"These are all the names of the people inside the Palace?"

Set nodded. "This one holds all the names of our servants, the guards, other personnel…and this one the names of the commoners present at the time of the attack."

"Where are they now?"

"Secured," Set answered loftily. "They will not move a muscle until I tell them to."

Akunadin brushed a long strand of gray hair out of his face, studying the papyri. "We didn't have any change of personnel recently, and I can vouch for the loyalty of the most of them."

Set drummed with his fingers on the desk. Akunadin was old enough to have lived through several generations of servants, and of course he knew the lot of them – though as to why the Priest would even bother to get to know them, was a mystery to him.

"We will start with the interrogations as soon as possible," Set continued. "If there is anyone among them who knows more about this, I will find him."

"Or her," Akunadin mumbled.

"Her?"

"What, you don't think a woman could be capable of plotting this?"

"Before he died, the prisoner yelled 'King of…' something," Set recalled. "He would have yelled 'Queen of…', if that were the case, don't you think?"

Akunadin put the papyri back in place. "It could've been a diversion."

"Hm."

"Don't allow yourself to be guided by the first impression."

"I know. I will get to the bottom of this, even if I have to dig with my own hands. I will find this King of whatever, and will bring him to his impending justice."

"I just can't believe why anyone would try to kill the Pharaoh," Akunadin mumbled again. Set leaned a little closer, wishing the man would speak up loud and clear.

"There are idiots everywhere. Who knows what goes around in the mind of a madman…"

"It has to be about political power," Akunadin interrupted. "Maybe someone of the delegates…how many foreign guests are in the Palace?"

Set grabbed another papyrus, unrolled and quickly read it. "We have three Syrian delegates, four from Nubia…"

"We don't have a peace treaty with Nubia yet," Akunadin said. "The last negotiations ended because our Pharaoh didn't agree with the taxes they wanted to impose on our trade. Maybe they wanted to get their point across?"

"Killing him would not exactly help their position to negotiate," Set scowled. "I am sure it has to be someone else."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I think I am going to need Shaadah and Karim to look into any suspicious souls," Set answered. "If we can see the evil, we can find our criminal."

"The man worked for this so-called King," Akunadin said. "Is there any word on the streets about a certain King? If somehow an unknown King has risen to power…a King without a country, but with an army…he could prove to be very dangerous."

"Very well, I will leave that up to you, then. Report to me if you find out anything about this King."

Set frowned as he studied the papyri. So many names…he hardly had realized before how many people, how many commoners were present in the Palace. He didn't mind the Pharaoh having contact with the common people, but if they repaid his kindness by trying to kill him…if it were up to Set, he had thrown everyone out, but he wasn't the Pharaoh, not by a long shot. He was a High Priest, holder of the Sennen Rod, and he would make sure everything at the Court would go orderly and peaceful.

* * *

"Pharaoh…Pharaoh."

Atemu blinked a few times, unable to identify the voice so close to his ear. "Hmm… what?"

"Pharaoh, it's almost dinnertime, and Set is here, as you have requested."

Atemu blinked again. It slowly dawned to him what was going on – he had fallen asleep, and he was rather comfortable…tucked away in Priest Karim's arms. Did he ever make it to his desk? Bewildered, Atemu looked up at his Priest, who shook his head to answer the unspoken question. Atemu felt embarrassed; so much for a hardworking Pharaoh.

"You needed the rest," Karim chided him gently, knowing that he felt guilty. "No one expected you to work immediately after a murder attempt. You needed some time to recover."

"Does Set have any news?" Atemu asked promptly. He didn't want to interrupt Karim, but he didn't want to be cuddled like a small child either. He was the Pharaoh, the incarnate of the Gods themselves, and he wasn't going to be babied throughout his period of reign. He could take his own decisions. Atemu disentangled himself from Karim, missing the disappointed look on the Priest's face and got up from the sofa, a little shaky. He had barely eaten or drunk all day and he swayed, Karim quickly standing behind him to catch him if he fell. Not a moment later, the doors opened and Set barged in. He had a firm stride; one step matched two of Atemu's, and not only because of their difference in height.

"Great Pharaoh," he said, bowing to him – even though it was a mere nod with his head. Set never bowed properly – and straightened himself. "We have not been able to identify the mastermind yet. I have interrogated people, but no one was aware of the culprit or his intentions. I did manage to find the farmer he traveled with, but he claims that they barely spoke to each other."

"Have you been able to find any family of the man yet?"

"Not yet, but I will. The farmer told me that he sort of knew where the man lived, and he will give directions to the guards so they can search for his wife and children."

"They will be compensated for the loss of their father," Atemu said.

"Excuse me, Pharaoh?"

"You heard me. I want this family compensated. When the guards return, I want to hear from them personally that they gave the gold to the family and not spend it themselves, otherwise heads will roll."

"Pharaoh, this man attempted to kill…"

"Not his wife and children!" Atemu made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "They are innocent. This man fell into a trap, swayed by gold, seduced by someone with a stronger mind than his. His wife, and certainly his children, will not suffer for his mistakes."

"You are rewarding them," Set grumbled.

"The man was at fault, his wife and children do not need to suffer. Discussion closed, Set. What other news do you bring me?"

"Not much news so far. Priest Akunadin has sent out men on the streets to catch wind of this 'King' the prisoner was talking about. Priest Shaadah has helped me to look into souls, but we have not found anyone evil or wicked enough to be the mastermind behind the attempt on your life, Pharaoh."

"Very well." Atemu rubbed over his stomach, hoping that it wouldn't give off embarrassing sounds.

"I will continue my search," Set continued. "I will find the perpetrator and bring you this 'King'."

"I know you will. Thank you," Atemu said. "Together, we will find out who is behind all of this. In the meantime, we can get some dinner…" he added, hoping he wasn't that obvious.

"Maybe it's wiser to stay inside and have dinner served here?" Karim suggested.

"I am not afraid," Atemu protested. "I can not hide in my quarters all day and all night!"

"You would be less of a target," Set reminded him.

"Nonsense. I will have dinner with my Priests as usual. It will show everyone that I am not afraid, and what kind of Pharaoh would I be if I hid behind my Priests all day?"

"A live one?"

Atemu pursed his lips. "I want to have dinner," he said petulantly, "and no one is keeping me from going to the dining hall."

"I will go with you, Great Pharaoh," Karim offered. Set didn't answer, but crossed his arms in front of his chest, his facial expression unreadable.

* * *

Mana ran through the hallway. The news about the attempt on the Pharaoh's life had traveled around the Palace fast, and she wanted to see for herself if Atemu was really alive and well. Her cheeks flushed red from the exertion as she ran faster and faster, almost tripping over her own feet. Usually, at this time, he would have dinner with his Priests; a daily tradition where apprentices weren't invited to. As soon as she saw the guards, Mana yelled at them that she wanted to enter the dining room.

"We know who you are, but you aren't invited to the Pharaoh's table," the guard said. "Mana, calm down! The Pharaoh is alive and well, you don't have to get all worked up."

"I want to see him myself!" Mana bristled, tugging at the muscular arm of the guard, who easily fended her off.

"We'll tell the Pharaoh that you were here," the guard said, a little impatient. She was about to kick his chin when he let go of her, all but shoving her aside to make way for the servants carrying large trays with dishes. The most delicious scents wafted towards her, reminding her painfully that she hadn't eaten all day yet, ever since she had heard the news. As soon as the door opened, Mana slipped inside, in front of the servants, ignoring the indignant cries of the guards. She sprinted into the room, towards the large, heavy wooden table in the center.

"Mana!" Mahaado gasped as he saw his disobedient apprentice.

"I'm sorry, Master," she said apologetically, quickly searching for the head of the table. She smiled when she saw Atemu. "Prince!"

"Pharaoh, Mana, Pharaoh!" Mahaado hissed at her. He thought he had a good grip on his apprentice and now she proved him all wrong!

Set coughed loudly, annoyed by the disturbance. "Mahaado, would you mind removing your noisy Apprentice from the table?" he asked, frowning at the sight of the young girl. "She is not supposed to be here."

"I just wanted to see if Prince was all right," Mana objected, lifting up her chin defiantly. She wasn't afraid of Set, or any of the Priests, but that didn't mean she wanted to get on their bad side. Not everyone was as lenient as Mahaado, and he was already quite strict with her. With pleading eyes she looked at the head of the table, at Atemu.

"Please join us, Mana," he said and the Priests muttered a little. Aishizu smiled at the young apprentice, and two servants ran around to get an extra chair and an extra plate. Mana herself clapped in her hands, overjoyed, and ran to her Pharaoh's side.

"I'm so glad you're safe and sound, Prince!"

"Pharaoh, Pharaoh!" Mahaado corrected her, all but mentally slapping himself. Was she really hell-bent on destroying his reputation? The others looked quizzically at him, and Set was spelling out how much he, Mahaado, had failed as a teacher by simply frowning at him.

Mana hopped on the chair and beamed at Atemu, who was very amused at the girl's antics.

"I am fine," he said. "Thanks to Aishizu and Mahaado, my life was not in danger for a second. Set and Akunadin will take care of the perpetrator, as soon as he is found."

"B-but… wasn't he already killed?" Mana asked.

"The man who attempted to kill me, was killed himself, yes," Atemu said softly. "By someone outside, not by anyone of us. He was afraid, deadly afraid…and unfortunately, his fear came true."

"He must've been really desperate," Mana said. "To try to do this to you, Pri…Pharaoh."

"He was promised gold," Atemu answered, leaning a little to the left as the servant put some food on his plate. "He was poor and desperate enough to accept gold to try to do what he did…"

Mana shivered. "I can't think of what would've happened if he were to succeed."

An uncomfortable silence hung between everyone. Aishizu visibly paled, the images the Tauk had shown her still fresh in her mind, and she dropped her spoon. Startled, she quickly looked for it, mumbling apologies.

Atemu showed Mana a soft smile. "There would be another Pharaoh to take my place."

"But not someone like you," Mana said.

"Not someone like me," Atemu agreed. Mana saddened, fixing her eyes to her plate, laden with the most delicious lamb stew she ever had before. _I need to protect him. I need to study and become strong, just as strong as my Master, and then no one will be able to come even close to him without me knowing!_

"It is all right, Mana. Eat," Atemu nudged her. The golden earrings dangled with every movement he made, and as he leaned a little back again the weight shifted with him, the end tips almost shifting over his shoulders. Mana nodded and ate a spoonful of the stew, reveling in the spicy, yet delicate taste. The Priests seemed to have accepted her presence at the table, though Mahaado sported a dangerous, frowning expression; she could almost hear him thinking up an appropriate lecture for her behavior. At this moment, she didn't mind; she just wanted to see for herself if her Pharaoh was safe, and that was more important than any lecture.

They finished dinner in relatively silence, and Atemu found himself rather stuffed. He had eaten more than normal, completely distracted by Mana and her anecdotes and stories. Without noticing, he had eaten two plates full, and another plate of dessert. Satisfied, Atemu stood up from the table, the Priests following his example. Atemu wasn't feeling like working this evening, and for the first time in a long time, he told the Priests they were all dismissed for the rest of the evening. Surprised and excited about the sudden time off, the Priests thanked Atemu and left the table. Mana took Atemu's hand as a friendly gesture. She felt how his fingers tightened around hers, and a sudden possessive streak welled up in her. Mana had seen how many people looked at her best friend. Male, female…they had this _hungry_ look, as if they wanted to undress Atemu with their very eyes, and if they were mentally calculating all of their possibilities when they had the Pharaoh in their claws. Mana's biggest fear was that Atemu would choose a Queen who was only interested in his power, and not for who he was. She wanted nothing but a kind and friendly Queen for her friend, and she wasn't counting on being the lucky one. She was just Mana, she wasn't interested in politics or power, and she was already overwhelmed with her studies and responsibilities as a magician in training.

"What are you going to do this evening, Pr.. Pharaoh?" she asked him.

"I want to relax, Mana," he answered. "The events of the day have been exerting, and I think it is for the best if I just try to unwind."

"I can show you a new spell," Mana said enthusiastically.

"That sounds good to me. Will you come later to my quarters? I wish to bathe first."

"Sure!"

Atemu watched her retreating back as Mana all but bounced away, going a little to the right… and too late to escape her Master. Mahaado was pretty angry, but of course he would halt mid-lecture as Mana would show him her doe-eyed, apologetic look and promise him sincerely to never do it again. They would be all right.


	4. Chapter 4

The bath was so warm and relaxing, that Atemu felt himself almost slipping away in blissful sleep. The water was enriched with luxury oils and the scents clung to his skin, the warmth of it all making him drowsy. His damp hair hung in strands around his head, curling slightly at the tips. Resting his neck on a towel, Atemu stared at the high ceiling. Not everyone disposed over a bath like this, not everyone had servants to do his or her bidding. He was very well aware of his position, he had everything he desired - he was a son of the Gods, not a farmer working on a field. Yet, he couldn't get the image of the thief out of his head. Had it been pure greed or despair, that the lure of gold had driven the man over the edge? How low could someone sink?

_Maybe Set needs to broaden his investigation and inspect the farmers and craftsmen as well as the denizens in the city,_ he thought. _We… no, I am losing touch with my people if my life can be bought with a handful of gold. _

"Great Pharaoh," a soft female voice came from his left.

"Hm?"

"It is time for you to leave the bath now," the servant girl said, holding up a large towel. Atemu blushed faintly. He'd been soaking in the water for so long now, and he still didn't want to leave. He wished he had more time to relax…maybe he should issue a decree of at least one free evening per week. After all, he was the Pharaoh; if he ordered people to jump through a hoop five times a day, they would jump through a hoop five times a day.

Rising from the water, Atemu took the towel and wrapped it snugly around himself, while the servant girl discreetly lowered her eyes. All of his personal servants, men and women, had been selected by Set. Some of them had also served his father, Pharaoh Akunamukanon, and were loyal and trustworthy, just like the Priests. The girl handed him a bathrobe which was a little too large for him. Atemu put it on, reveling in the soft material enveloping his body. He shoved his feet in simple sandals and left the bathing room. Once inside his living quarters, Atemu sought out his most comfortable sofa, reminding himself that Mana would stop by later. Fondly, he awaited the girl's arrival while he read up on a few reports on the current stock of grains in the capital. When Mana knocked on his door, she was slightly annoyed because of the lecture of her teacher; Mahaado never cut his time short when dishing out a lecture.

"He's not my father!" she said angrily as she twirled her wand around.

"Careful with that!" Atemu was afraid she would set off some magical reaction when carelessly shaking or waving her wand, it had happened before. She giggled, cheeks flustered as she put the wand away, leaving it on a low table.

"I'm sorry!"

"It is all right." He patted next to him on the sofa. "Come sit next to me? You were going to show me a spell. I would like to see it."

"Atemu…" Mana hesitated. It still felt weird to call him by his first name, even though he had given her explicit permission.

He looked up, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, Mana?"

He was tired, she could see it. Why was she moping about a lecture, which she deserved in the first place, when her friend was burdened by all the responsibilities and duties of a Pharaoh?

"You need to rest," she said. "The bath has relaxed you, no more exertion for you tonight."

"But the spell," he pouted. "I really want to see it!"

She laughed. "You're too tired to keep your eyes open!"

"I want to see it," he repeated stubbornly, and his last words got lost in a huge yawn. Shocked, he clamped his hand over his mouth, but it was too late to cover it up.

Mana reached for him and patted his leg. "It's all right. I'll show you tomorrow."

"I am sorry," Atemu lowered his head. "I did not want to waste your time."

"Time with you is never wasted," Mana said. "And besides, I got to see for myself that you're all right. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled. "You are such a wonderful friend, Mana. Thank you…but don't worry about me. I am well protected by the guards."

"You're going to bed," Mana said cheerfully, albeit a little strained. She stood up from the sofa, grabbing his hand to pull him up.

"I can find the bedroom on my own, Mana."

"No protests, Pharaoh," she teased him, and led him to the bedroom. She had never been in his private quarters before. Mana was glad that Atemu hadn't chosen to move into his father's quarters. Not only were those the rooms of the late Pharaoh, heavy with memories and emotions, Atemu's quarters were much more…happier and cheerful, and more fitting. She pushed the door open, and stepped to the side to allow him to enter; he almost stumbled, too tired to raise his feet properly.

The Pharaohnic bedroom was… disappointing. Somehow, Mana had envisioned herself a room filled with gold, a huge bed, and lots of fancy furniture and beautiful objects. It came as a surprise to her that the room didn't hold much more than a modest-sized bed, a few rugs on the floor and a dresser against the east wall. It was just a place to sleep and nothing more. She felt her cheeks heat up and turned around, hoping that Atemu would take her movement as a token of decency. She heard the rustle of the bathrobe falling on the floor, and after that, the rustling of sheets as Atemu slipped between them.

Mana picked up the bathrobe and folded the garment. She wasn't really a servant in the technical sense of the word, she didn't do household chores or labor, but she acted as an errand girl, mostly for Mahaado, of course. The other Priests could command her to their bidding, but everyone knew she was Mahaado's apprentice and she had more than enough on her plate already. Studying _heka_ was hard, and though she slacked off sometimes, she never slacked off in her duties or obligations towards her friends and family.

Atemu had taken off his slippers and settled between the sheets, combined with a heaby blanket. The nights could be fairly cold, and this cover would keep him warm enough. Mana busied herself with the pillows and covers until Atemu leaned back.

"Your earrings," she said amusedly, amazed that he wasn't bothered by their weight or size.

"Ah, you are right…" He took out the large earrings and handed them to her, and she put them away on the dresser.

"Rest now," Mana said. She sat on the bed, at his foot end. He looked vulnerable, boyish, his hands above the covers and the dark tan of his skin contrasting with the soft, beige colors of the bed linen. Atemu had already closed his eyes, and she didn't have to wait long before his breathing evened out as well. He was so close by, yet so far away.

"Rest now," she repeated, though he couldn't hear her anymore. "Rest, my love."

* * *

"Just as I thought."

"What is it, Master?"

Mana hopped from her stool, and closed the distance between her and her Master. Mahaado had been working day and night, frantically researching the dart that had been retrieved after the attempt on Atemu's life.

"Mandrake root," he hissed. "The smallest touch would have caused our Pharaoh's death. The Gods have been favoring us to allow us to save him."

Mana shivered. "Who could've done this?"

"I do not know." Mahaado heaved a sigh. He looked in abhor at the dart, a tiny, innocent-looking piece of wood, if it hadn't been for the venomous tip. He allowed himself to sit down, after he'd been standing for hours on end. His _heka_ had been fundamental to determine the poison, but it still had taken a lot out of him. "Whoever crafted this poison…it is horrible. We have to tell this to our Pharaoh. Someone with this kind of knowledge on poison is extremely dangerous. We do not want another murder attempt to happen…"

"No, absolutely not!" Mana shivered. Mahaado looked at her quizzically. His Apprentice had been unusually silent this morning, and though most of the times he welcomed the silence, if _Mana_ of all people was silent…then something was going on. He wasn't sure if it had to do with the murder attempt, whether she was still upset about it, or about something else…and he, the greatest sorcerer of Khemet, didn't know how to bring it up to his Apprentice. A little sullen, Mana looked at the dart, knowing better than to try to touch it. Mahaado had used towels and linen to avoid touching the object directly, and now that he had determined the poison, didn't make it any less dangerous. "I just can't imagine someone doing this to him."

"People have different reasons," Mahaado said. "The assassin had been offered money, and the lure of it was greater than the importance of our Pharaoh's life. People are jealous of his position and power…"

"It's not fair! I don't want him to die!"

"He is not going to." Mahaado's voice was soothing. She still _was_ upset from yesterday's events, the poor girl. "We are there to protect him, we-"

"We're not!" She bristled. "We're here, in your study! Who's with him _now_?"

"Priest Set and Priest Akunadin," Mahaado said, taken aback by her vehemence. "They will make sure nothing happens to him."

"He's not safe…I want him to be safe, always!"

"He will be, Mana, he will be. Have faith in the Gods…what do you say, let us go and visit him to bring him the news?"

That caught her attention and she perked up. "Yes!"

"Great Pharaoh, news on the streets is…daunting."

Atemu looked up from his desk, an impressive stack of papyri to his left side. The tips of his fingers were blackened by the ink, and a red mark between to his thumb and index finger indicated where he'd been holding a reed since the early morning.

"Tell me, Priest Akunadin." he said. Atemu tried to keep a neutral demeanor towards his Priests, as to not give anyone the impression that he favored or disfavored one of them. Something about Akunadin gave him the creeps though; he was convinced of the man's loyalty, since he had been working for his father, the former Pharaoh, without any complaint or fail. Atemu's other hand drummed impatiently on the desk. For some reason, the elderly Priest called upon his every shred of patience. Set was standing next to Akunadin, upright and straight as a ruler, Sennen Rod tucked into the crook of his elbow.

"My men have been able to gather news about that King," Akunadin answered. "Supposedly, this is a man proclaiming himself to be the King of Thieves. His name is Bakura, and he's described as quite tall, with hair as white as a bone and wearing a red cloak."

"Bakura." Atemu repeated the strange sounding name. "Did your men learn more about him?"

"The funny thing is, Great Pharaoh, when they asked around, no one can recall any of his achievements. For calling himself the King of Thieves, he has surprisingly little thefts or robberies to his name. It's some kind of fear he manages to strike into the hearts of the people. They talk about him with awe and respect, lowering their voices as if he can hear them, but when pressured just a little, everyone has to admit that they don't know much about him, and that they can't remember what he stole or did..."

"I do not like the idea that someone is causing a rift between me and my people, let alone having someone attempting to kill me," Atemu said, frowning. "This man is creating chaos and disorder. I want him apprehended and brought to my Court."

"As you wish," Akunadin said. "However, I'm afraid it's going to take some time, Great Pharaoh. For all that the people talked about him, one thing they did know for sure: no one knows where he is."

"I do not expect someone who calls himself the King of Thieves to be found anytime soon, even though I want to," Atemu answered. "I want him to appear for me, one way or the other. I will not stand for anyone trying to single-handedly start a revolt, not when we are still in negotiations with the Syrians and Nubians."

"About those Syrians…" Set interrupted dryly. "They still do not see why they should meet us halfway. We just can not fulfill their demands, and they refuse to alter any of what they are asking for."

"Great Pharaoh, this will turn into a war if we don't reach some kind of compromise," Akunadin reminded him.

"I know, but they are forcing us into a corner with their outrageous 'wishes'," Atemu said. "We respect our trading partners, but if we allow them to walk all over us, we can kiss our trade routes goodbye. Khemet will not become a doormat for people to wipe their feet on."

"I understand, great Pharaoh," Akunadin replied. "These delegates are more stubborn than I've ever met before. I don't know why they don't even want to collaborate."

"Maybe they have orders to not give in into anything we suggest?" Set wondered. "We have made several offers, we made several attempts to reach a satisfactory compromise, but they reject everything. Maybe they are just here to find an excuse to instigate a war?"

"What would they achieve with a war? This is about a trade route, not expanding our borders. A war would take the lives of many, and drain their nation of its resources."

"But it would gain them our people as slaves, our knowledge to usurp, our national treasure to confiscate and use as they see fit," Set commented. "Khemet is a very tempting target for other nations."

"If we have to fend off war, we will fend off a war." Atemu looked at Akunadin. "I want the delegates to be treated with utmost respect and care. Nothing will be denied to them as long as they are here, and they can use any facility they want to. I will continue to negotiate with them. No one else but I or the other Priests can or will negotiate with them. Understood?"

"As our Pharaoh wishes," Akunadin said. "I'll make sure they're comfortable and well cared for."

Both Akunadin and Set bowed, as the audience was over. "Great Pharaoh, we will keep you informed," the High Priest said. "I still have to investigate the other commoners who have been accommodated here since the capture of the perpetrator."

"Very well." Atemu was about to raise his hand as a sign to dismiss them, when a firm knock on the door resonated through his study.

"Enter!" Set bellowed.

The door opened, revealing Mana and Mahaado. The young girl immediately rushed towards Atemu's side, while Mahaado walked at a calmer pace, fitting for a Priest.

"Oh, it's you," Set said.

"A good morning to you, Priest Set, Priest Akunadin," Mahaado greeted him, ignoring Set's less-than-enthusiastic comment.

"Good morning to you too, Mahaado, Mana," Atemu said, pleased to see them. Akunadin mumbled a greeting, but Set refused to return the greeting at all. Mahaado wasn't surprised; Set barely deemed anyone worth of his attention in the first place.

"Great Pharaoh, I have news about the dart," he stated. Set and Akunadin both turned their heads toward him, unable to hide the curiosity on their faces.

"What is it, Mahaado?" Atemu asked, sharing the curiosity. He motioned for his Priest to sit down, but Mahaado remained standing upright.

He cleared his throat. "I have been able to verify that the tip of the dart was poisoned."

"Unbelievable," Set muttered under his breath. Akunadin shook his head in disgust. "Our nation has fallen deep if one deems the use of poison necessary," he said, his voice grave. "We have to find the man behind this all, Great Pharaoh."

"We will," Atemu said. "I am sure you will find more on this King of Thieves, and one day he will be here to face me; as I will bring justice to this world, not war."

Akunadin bowed once more and turned around to leave the room. Set simply nodded at Atemu. As soon as the two Priests had left, Mahaado described the poison and its properties to Atemu, all but shocked in his seat.

"I can not believe that someone is capable of doing this! How easy is it to obtain mandrake root and process it into a poison?"

"It is not that easy, Great Pharaoh," Mahaado explained. "One would have to have great knowledge of alchemy and _heka_. Mandrake root and poisons are not common knowledge, as far as I know. Even if there was some kind of recipe, it still would be tremendously difficult to process."

"Then we better inquire the local alchemists and healers, or anyone else with access to plants, roots or any other resources to make potions or concoctions," Atemu suggested. "Also, if _heka_ is involved, we have to investigate magic users as well."

"What do you mean, Great Pharaoh?" Mahaado asked.

"I do not have to tell you that _heka_ can be used for several purposes," Atemu said. "What if someone applied their _heka_, even in its weakest form, to separate the elements of the mandrake root, thus creating the poison and adding it to the dart? You never know…"

"Great Pharaoh, it would mean that…almost anyone could have done it." Mahaado gasped. Lots of people had, though not always aware of it, some _heka_ at their disposal. Mahaado and Mana had great _heka_, and the talent to use it, but it took years of skillful studying and practicing. Mana had fallen silent. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that someone willingly had tried to kill Atemu. She shivered.

"I am aware of this, Mahaado. Set and Akunadin are going to interrogate the rest of the people here at the Palace, in the hope to find another witness or an acquaintance of the assassin. There has to be someone else but that farmer, who knows him. Akunadin will also investigate the King of Thieves, with the assistance of Karim and Shaadah, or they can help you with eliminating the other…"

"Eliminating?" Mana repeated, voice shrill.

"Eliminating the other possibilities," Mahaado finished Atemu's sentence. "We will work systematically towards our goal by eliminating one possibility after another. We have to narrow our possibilities down, so we can concentrate on..."

"…finding the man behind this all," Mana said, understanding what her Master was talking about.

"Great Pharaoh, what did you say about a King of Thieves..?"

"According to Akunadin, there's word on the streets about someone proclaiming himself to be the King of Thieves. His name is Bakura, and he has struck quite the fear in the locals. I will have Akunadin send out his description through the entire Palace."

"Very well, Great Pharaoh. He sounds like a dangerous man, and we have only seen a little of what he is capable of."

"Agreed. Was that all?"

Mahaado nodded, and he discreetly motioned at Mana to step away from Atemu. He knew that his Apprentice wanted to spend time with her friend, but today wasn't the day. "We will leave now, Apprentice. We will abide our Great Pharaoh's orders and leave him to his work."

The girl all but pouted. Maybe he should put his own reservations aside and ask the girl what was going on. For now, he bowed to his Pharaoh and left his study, Mana silently traipsing behind him.

* * *

Silence. It wasn't lunch time yet, but Atemu was longing for something to eat; a fig or a date, preferably doused with honey. He promised himself to ask a servant to get him some figs as soon as he finished reading this report; it was Set's preliminary report about his earlier interrogations. Atemu blinked a few times. He had difficulties focusing on the papyri, the hieroglyphs turning into blurs. It wasn't that hot in his study yet, and there was a carafe of fresh, cool water on the low table close to his desk. He preferred working in his own study, feeling relaxed and comfortable here, and a perfect place to receive his Priests. This way, he could keep in touch with his trusted advisors, and hear about everything that was going on. Atemu continued this tradition started by his father, who valued personal contact with his Priests above everything; after all, he depended on them a great deal.

He made a mental note to talk to Shimon later today. He hadn't seen the vizier since the attack, yesterday morning. The elderly man had excused himself from the daily meeting, claiming he wasn't feeling very well. Shimon had always been in good health, but his age could be catching up with him…. Atemu shivered slightly, as a breeze went through the room. He loved to have the balcony doors open, so he could hear the noises from the city outside. The hustle and bustle of life on the streets in the background was somehow soothing, and didn't interrupt his concentration at all. With renewed vigor, Atemu went back to reading, carefully studying the report. Set had been thorough as usual, but he had the habit of saying more between the lines then appeared at first sight. Atemu reached with his other hand for the carafe of water, his eyes still on the papyrus to figure out what was more behind the High Priest's words.

The shadow falling over his desk went unnoticed until it was too late. Atemu had no time to wonder, as a painful tug at the cord from which his Puzzle was dangling from, made it impossible to speak. Atemu grabbed the cord, trying to wedge his fingers between his skin and the rope, almost choking. Gasping for air, he called for his guards, but his voice was nothing but a mere squeak. Air..! The rope cut into his skin, chafing above the golden bands around his neck, the Puzzle close to his face, one of its sharp triangular points poking against his jaw. Atemu was pulled back and dragged out of his chair, and with an unceremoniously thud, he landed on the floor. He kicked wildly with his legs, hitting his desk so hard that the ink pot, reeds and papyri scrolls rolled off the surface, also landing on the floor.

Laughter hit his ears. Joyous laughter as the cord was pulled even tighter. Clawing and tugging, every attempt to free himself proved to be futile. The person tugging at the cord was much stronger than him. His lungs burned, his chest heaving to grasp at the littlest bit of air, and black spots swam in front of his eyes. Atemu didn't notice he had lost one of his earrings as he struggled, and his cries for help got lost as he wheezed and panted, unable to draw in air. Slowly, he was losing his energy, his legs refusing to cooperate, his kicks growing weaker. All of his force was concentrated on removing the cord, but he wasn't able to break the tight grip, and he couldn't speak anymore, only pitiful gasps and pants as his vision started to blur.

The attacker dragged him away from his chair. Atemu didn't fight his attacker, he was fighting for air, and his attacker had strength enough to simply drag him all over the floor, holding him in this tight grip, the cord all choking him. _Where is he taking me to? What is he doing?_ Air, he couldn't get any air, his lungs failed to draw a new breath, and his vision went black. _Mahaado…Mana…Karim…Set_…His nation, his people…how could this be happening? In a last ditch effort, he managed to work his fingers between the rope and his skin, but it was too late. His attacker yanked at the cord, not budging an inch, and snagged it tighter. Atemu gasped out loud, his body shaking and convulsing. He couldn't abandon his people. His nation, proud Khemet…he couldn't…leave…he suddenly heard a loud, irritated growl, and the pressure was lifted. He would've reveled in the joy of breathing again, if his body would've cooperated. Lifelessly, his fingers uncurled from its grasp at the now loose cord and his arms slumped next to his sides, on the floor, and he surrendered to the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

"Pharaoh… Pharaoh!"

"Mahaado, do something!"

"How long is it going to take for him to regain consciousness?"

"You will need to have patience."

"I want to know if he is all right or not!"

"He is _alive_."

"He does not open his eyes…!"

"Patience, Set!"

If he had been able to, Atemu would've snorted. Some things would never change - Set and patience were like water and fire. A patient Set would be a terrible thing. It made him feel relieved, somehow - if everyone had been standing silently around his bed…that would mean he was dying. Atemu coughed, and his lungs responded with a fierce burn. He gasped for air, his body cramping and tensing, reliving the fight again. Something was wrapped around his neck, and as soon as Atemu registered the pressure against his skin, he panicked. His hands shot up, fingers clawing at the cloth, trying to pry it off.

"Pharaoh! Pharaoh, please, no!"

Karim's voice mingled with Mahaado's and Set's, all urging him to not touch the cloth. Large hands covered his, gently, and only that gentle touch kept Atemu from going into a total frenzy. He calmed down, recognizing the voices; only familiar people were around him. He dropped his hands and slowly it started to dawn to him that the covers and pillows of the bed felt cool, as well as the cloth wrapped around his neck. The burning pain was gone, and he figured that Mahaado probably had put some ointment on his skin.

"What…what happened?" he managed to say, voice croaked and hoarse.

"Pharaoh, please open your eyes," Karim urged him. Atemu frowned, wondering why the Priest requested that- but when he tried to open his eyes, he had to wonder why it took him so much effort. Blinking a few times, he stared at the ceiling, then he tilted his head to see the others: Set and Mahaado, with Set standing and Mahaado sitting on the bed, a bowl on his lap. It was his own bedroom, Atemu realized; a wave of relief went through him, calming him even more.

Karim clasped his hands together. "The Gods have been merciful and wise! We have to thank them extra in prayer tonight!"

Atemu tried to speak again, but after his first words, his voice deteriorated even more. "What happened?" he repeated.

"Careful, Great Pharaoh," Mahaado shushed him, then addressed Karim: "Bring some of the tea with honey, please."

The Priest nodded and left the bedside, to return quickly with a cup of lukewarm tea. Usually Atemu preferred his tea hot, but he understood that his throat was too sensitive to deal with any scorching liquids right now. Careful, he sipped the tea; Mahaado held the cup to his lips with the utmost care. Even this small movement drained Atemu of his remaining strength, and he reclined into the pillows. A million questions raced through his mind.

"We found you on the floor," Karim started to explain. Set looked bored and annoyed, the Sennen Rod clutched to his chest, ready to kill with it. "The guards heard some stumbling noises, but they didn't think much of it, unfortunately. When they finally barged through the doors, they saw you lying on the floor… and they immediately called for us."

"I have thrown those bumbling fools into the dungeons," Set interrupted. "Lazy, incompetent fools! They should have checked up on you as soon as they heard the first noise!"

Atemu made a weak gesture with his hand for his High Priest to calm down. A headache was coming up and he wasn't in the mood for a heated discussion. Set shut his mouth, though he pursed his lips irritably- he didn't like being silenced.

"We'll deal with the guards later," Karim said. "There was no one in your room though, Great Pharaoh. You were lying on the floor with the Puzzle tied around your neck."

Shocked, Atemu reached for his chest, the familiar weight of the golden Puzzle gone.

"Do not worry," Mahaado said soothingly, "the Item is next to you, Great Pharaoh. There is nothing wrong with it."

"Why was it not stolen?" It was difficult to speak, his voice nothing but a hoarse whisper. Mahaado held the cup against Atemu's lips and he gratefully sipped some more tea.

"I don't think this…action was meant to steal the Puzzle. It was meant to take your life," Karim said, sobering. He frowned, not liking what he just had said.

"It is for the best if you are surrounded with guards day and night, even in your private quarters," Set said. "It is obvious that you are not safe here. I am still investigating how someone could have reached the balcony from the outside, though I have never been happy why you chose this over the more secure quarters at the back of the Palace."

"Very well," Atemu waved at him again, ignoring the comment. "Do as you need to do."

"Our Pharaoh needs rest," Mahaado said. "Set, please have guards outside the door, and instruct them well to respond to every strange sound they hear. I do not wish a repetition of the earlier event."

Set nodded, albeit through gritted teeth. He didn't respond well to critique either. "I will handpick the new guards myself."

Atemu groaned. That meant that he was going to be surrounded by guards with every step he took. He wasn't in a position to protest, though; the situation had taken a turn for the worse. First the poisoned dart, now a physical attack. Karim tilted his head a little as if he were about to say something, but decided against it the very last moment and turned to leave the room, together with Set. Atemu could hear them exchange orders and ideas until the door closed behind them.

Mahaado pulled up the covers of the bed. "I have wrapped that cloth around your neck, drenched in soothing aloe and a mixture of calming herbs. It is good for raw, abraded skin."

Atemu sighed softly, allowing the other to tuck him in like a little child. "I can barely feel…"

"That is what I was aiming for," Mahaado chuckled softly, and then turned serious quickly. "Your skin was chafed and bleeding, Great Pharaoh. Whoever did this, he was quite forceful. The pattern of the rope was completely engraved due to the sheer force he pulled it with."

"And one minute…no, a few seconds more, and he would have attained his goal."

"I do not understand. A poisonous dart yesterday, a physical attack today…what is coming of this world?"

"I do not know either…how is Mana?"

"She is running through the Palace frantically, thinking she can catch the culprit herself." Mahaado shook his head. "I allow her to, my Pharaoh, because she needs to vent her energy. She needs to let of some steam."

Atemu couldn't help but to touch the cloth wrapped around his neck, grateful that Mahaado's knowledge of healing herbs took away most of the painful, stinging sensation. He could still feel some of the pain, but it was bearable. "Thank you."

"For what, Great Pharaoh?"

He smiled. He'd noticed Mahaado's earlier slip, addressing him with 'my' instead of 'great' Pharaoh. Atemu decided to let it slide; Mahaado had been upset and he didn't deserve to be berated. Besides, they were friends, and there had been no one else to hear it. He closed his eyes again, feeling comfortable in the other's presence. The silence was comfortable, and Atemu's breathing became steady and regular again. His hands were next to his sides, as his chest heaved steadily in a regular pattern. Mahaado was still sitting on the bed, and Atemu didn't mind that he stayed with him. Slowly, he was drifting off to sleep… when he suddenly felt a light touch at his neck. A brief moment of panic made his breathing hitch, only to calm down immediately again, as he assumed it was Mahaado. No threat or violence went out form this touch, fingertips briefly touching his skin, and Atemu heaved a very soft sigh.

He continued to doze, not alarmed. The warm fingers poked and prodded indeed at the cloth, adding more of the healing concoction; the cool, refreshing paste lightly tingling on his skin. Turning his head a little to the side, it did come as a surprise when the same fingers touched his cheek. Atemu remained calm, pretending to be asleep, even though his heart beat faster and faster. Apparently Mahaado thought he really was asleep and the Priest took some…liberty in his usual demeanor around the Pharaoh. His touch was soothing and comforting, and certainly not unwelcome… Unconsciously, he leaned into the touch, tilting his head some more. The fingers moved up, caressing his face, tracing the outlines of his nose, lips and chin. No word was spoken, nothing but warmth and solace was shared, and Atemu was soothed into sleep, with pleasant dreams, despite the earlier events.

* * *

Set drummed with his fingers on his desk as usual, his eyes glaring at everyone present in the room. Aishizu sat right in front of him, fingers plucking at her Item. Shaadah and Akunadin stood in the corner of the room, talking in a hushed tone. Mahaado stood next to Karim, the youngest Priests automatically searching each other out. They were all very aware of the grave nature of this meeting.

"This has to stop," Set said out loud. "Two murder attempts on our Pharaoh's life, and we do not have any idea where to look! People talk about a King of Thieves, but he still eludes us, managing to stay out of our grasp. What are your opinions about this? Karim? Shaadah?"

"I don't know what to do," Karim took the lead. "Someone has been able to climb up the walls to reach the Pharaoh's balcony, or he knows how to infiltrate from the inside!"

Set frowned. That was a possibility he hadn't thought of earlier, and it annoyed him: he was supposed to see everything, to notice everything. The thought of infiltration on the inside was difficult to swallow; he had selected the people closest to the Pharaoh himself, and he was sure they wouldn't dream of hurting him. Could he have been so wrong? Had he displaced his trust, had he been deluded?

"We have to submit everyone to a close inspection," he finally said. "I already discharged everyone from the Palace who has no business here."

"You mean you denied them the public audience?"

"There will be no public audience until this is settled," Set snarled. "Do you really think I want to expose our Pharaoh to more opportunities to kill him?"

"What happened is regrettable," Mahaado said, "but we can not keep the people from seeing the Pharaoh. That is against his wishes!"

"As long as our Pharaoh does not object, there will be no more public audiences," Set repeated firmly.

"He has not objected because he is _resting_, recovering from two murder attempts in such short time!"

"Exactly, that is why I have called off the public audiences. However, to avoid panic among the people, I have announced that the audiences will resume shortly. I do not want the nation to worry. We have to be careful with what we're saying."

"Yes, you're right," Karim agreed. "If we divulge that the Pharaoh is not feeling well, the nation will be in uproar and the delegates will probably use it as leverage in their negotiations."

"Speaking of the delegates… as our Pharaoh indicated, I want them all to be kept an eye on," Set ordered, and looked at the other Priests. It didn't elude him that neither Shaadah nor Akunadin participated in the discussion. Akunadin barely spoke in general, but sometimes he would interject with a comment or some advice. Shaadah was unusually quiet. Standing next to his fellow Priest, he kept the hood of his robes down, concealing his head, and his hands covered by the large sleeves, as if he wanted to make himself look invisible. "Priest Shaadah?"

Shaken out of his thoughts, the man looked up. "Ah! Eh…I think we have to go with what you just said, High Priest. The Pharaoh needs to be protected, at all costs."

"Very well. We will do whatever we can to protect him," Set said, sharing a stern look with Mahaado and Karim. Aishizu muttered something inaudible.

"Priestess Aishizu?"

"I can't see a thing," she said, referring to her Item, the Tauk, that granted her glimpses of the future.

"You can not see?"

"I can't see our Pharaoh's future," she whispered. "I can't see if they succeed in killing him or not…"

"They?"

"The people…they… whoever is behind all of this. I can't get a clear image. I can't see who is all behind of this."

"If only that were possible," Karim sighed.

"I will continue interrogating everyone," Set got up from behind his desk. "The rest of you will sweep the city of any suspect people. Together we will work on protecting the Pharaoh."

Everyone in the room agreed, and the Priests prepared to leave. Set walked over to see everyone out, but before Shaadah could leave, the tall High Priest took him by the arm.

"Are you all right, Priest Shaadah?"

The Priest eyed him with a surprised, almost frightened look on his face. "Of course, Set! I am…upset by the latest events. Our Pharaoh is in danger, and there isn't much we can do about it."

Shaadah lifted up his arm to get out of Set's grasp, and the sleeve of his robe fell back, revealing his hand. Set's sharp eye immediately noticed the abrasions on the man's fingers.

"You are injured," he said.

The Priest shook his head. "Injured? No, I was out all day yesterday on horseback to search for the Pharaoh's attacker…my hands are chafed from the reins."

Set narrowed his eyes. The angry red stripes marred the palms of Shaadah's hands, but the High Priest couldn't determine if the abrasions match up with the forceful tying of the rope of the Pharaoh's Puzzle or riding on horseback for hours. Shaadah had been outside all day yesterday, he wasn't lying about that. Set let go of the other's arm, but it didn't escape him that Shaadah turned around and moved away from him quickly.

* * *

"How is he feeling today?" Shimon Muran kept his voice low as he stood next to Atemu'ss bed. The Pharaoh appeared to be asleep; his head was turned to the side, eyes closed. Karim urged a female servant away and focused his attention on the vizier.

"He's doing a lot better, if it weren't for his throat being horribly red and blue," the Priest said.

"Red _and_ blue?"

Karim gave an apologetic smile. "It's red from where the rope cut into his skin, and blue from where the attacker's hands pressed against it," he said. "It's an ugly mess, and it's really disheartening to see him like this. It's a miracle that he can still talk."

"I take it he gets the best of care," the elderly man said, his ceremonial hat shifting with every movement.

"But of course!" Karim tempered his voice. "Nothing but the best for our Pharaoh."

The vizier smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We wouldn't want to lose him as we did his father."

Karim shook his head fiercely. "Absolutely not, great vizier. The nation suffered a great loss when Pharaoh Akunamukanon died. We only have his son now, and we pray to the Gods that they won't call him by their side as well. We need him too much here."

Shimon didn't comment on that, looking down at Atemu, who had turned over to his right side, breathing regular. The cloth wrapped around his neck was a bitter reminder of the earlier attack. "A good, blissful rest," he muttered. "Stand guard, Karim."

"I will," the Priest said and to stress his words, he took a stand right next to Atemu's bed. Shimon barely gave a nod before he left the bedroom, crossing the living quarters to get to the exit. The four guards standing outside respectfully stepped aside, and Shimon mumbled an inaudible greeting as he passed them. He scratched his beard. The nation needed Atemu, certainly. If they were to lose another Pharaoh in such a short time…the neighboring countries would deem them weak and possibly start up a war if they thought Khemet would crumble without the hands of a firm ruler.

"Vizier," he heard a voice, and Shimon turned around.

"Priest Akunadin," he said, a little warily. Both men were in the same age range, though truthfully, Akunadin was younger than Shimon. Despite serving the Pharaonic family for generations, they had never grown close, mostly due to their different positions. They both kept their distance, a natural amount of distrust between them. The tall and slim Akunadin, against the short, pudgy Shimon.

"What can I do for you?" Shimon asked.

"You have visited our Pharaoh? How is he doing?"

"So far so good," Shimon answered. "I left Karim with him; he'll make sure nothing happens to him… again."

"It's unbelievable," Akunadin shook his head, "that someone dared to enter his private quarters and tried to…"

"Choke the life out of him," Shimon supplied, not beating around the bush. "As soon as the Pharaoh is awake again, I'll have him moving out of those quarters as soon as possible."

"Our Pharaoh likes his balcony, overlooking the city," Akunadin said dryly. "No matter how many people have pointed out that it's a terrible weakness in his protection, he still wants to have that stupid balcony."

"He wants to stay in touch with the common people," Shimon objected. "Living at the other side of the Palace would make him overlook the gardens, not the city."

"The gardens are less lethal."

"Priest Akunadin..!"

"Set is looking into it. With his dedication, we'll have the culprit in no time."

"We have to be aware of the fact that in a very short time, two murder attempts at the Pharaoh's life have been executed. We don't want a third to happen, let alone succeed."

Akunadin stiffened. "The almighty Gods will stand by their son and protect him from such a terrible fate."

"They didn't protect Akunamukanon enough," Shimon said.

"Someone is after the royal family." Akunadin heaved a sigh.

"I doubt it. Akunamukanon died of natural causes."

Akunadin looked away. Shimon eyed the Priest. The man looked a little unfocused, nervous even – what was on the other's mind? _What does he know?_

"Were you on your way to visit the Pharaoh?"

"I was," Akunadin answered, startled. "But if he's asleep, I better let him rest, of course. After all, recovering from another attack will take enough of his energy already."

"I'm sure he'll be back to this old self in no time," Shimon said, encouragingly. "He's young and strong. We'll all be waiting for Set's investigations, of course. If there's anyone who can find out what's going on and who's responsible for this, it's him."

Akunadin agreed. "If you need me, vizier, I'll be in my quarters, awaiting the results and the orders of the Pharaoh as soon as he's awake again."

"Very well. I'll send a message to the other Priests that future meetings are adjourned until further notice, and you can dedicate yourself to your studies or other work." All of the priests held their own field of specialization; they used their scarce free time to perform their own research, or to study and read. Whereas Mahaado had his _heka _studies, Shaadah was an avert reader of philosophical works, and Aishizu collected ancient maps as to enlarge the general knowledge of the world. Akunadin busied himself with the Shrine of Wedju were all the _kaa_ were kept; he was the official guardian of the mystical pyramid, studying the kaa monsters and their effects.

"Thank you," Akunadin said and bowed, only very slightly, to the vizier. Shimon was about to walk away, when he suddenly halted, showing the other a sweet smile.

"By the way, how's your son?"

"My son?" Akunadin didn't show any surprise, though he raised an eyebrow. "He's doing fine, great vizier. You know that."

"It must be great, having family so close to you," Shimon commented and turned around, his hands loosely on his back, humming a tune, leaving the Priest to stare at him as he disappeared out of sight.


	6. Chapter 6

"Apprentice. Apprentice!"

Jerked out of her thoughts, Mana keeled over and fell from the bench, her legs unladylike up in the air. Quickly, she stood upright again, smoothing her skirt.

"Yes, Master?"

"Keep your attention focused," Mahaado scolded her, but there wasn't any harshness in his voice. "I can not have you wander off with your attention elsewhere, as you will do even more damage when you are not focused."

"That's not very kind, Master," the girl pouted. She knew Mahaado was right, of course- her magic tended to become extremely erratic when she didn't focus. The murder attempts on Atemu's life were straining her nerves, and she had been frantically searching all over the Palace again, as if she could find the culprit and use her magic to punish him. Mana was also searching for protective spells, refusing to believe that the guards could keep her best friend safe. After all, he'd been attacked in his private quarters, where he was supposed to be free of any harm.

"Master?"

"Yes, Apprentice?"

"Do you think it was that King?"

"What do you mean?"

Mahaado looked up from the paperwork in front of him, a huge pile of lists detailing alchemists, healers and anyone else with knowledge of herbs and potions. It was his task to find out who had access to mandrake root and who'd been able to create a poison with it. So far, Mahaado had managed to narrow the number of people down, but it wasn't enough. Too many people had rudimentary knowledge of alchemy and herbs and plants. Mandrake root might be harder to come by and process, still plenty of people could access it and brew it into a potion. He really didn't fancy going into town and question all these people, but it looked like he had no other choice.

"That King… you know, when that man tried to…"

"The King of Thieves," Mahaado said, "or so his name is sung on the streets. We know his real name is Bakura, a man with bone-white hair, wearing a dark red cloak. People are afraid to talk about him…as if he has struck the fear of a demon in them."

Mana clutched her wand to her chest. This information was new to her and it was terrifying her. "Maybe he _is_ a demon, if he wants to take Prince's life…"

"Pharaoh, Apprentice, Pharaoh…!"

"Pharaoh," she repeated stubbornly. "Master, will _Pharaoh_ be safe from now on?"

"We do everything we can," Mahaado said. "The King of Thieves is cunning, but not cunning enough. We have the Gods on our side."

Mana scowled a little. She believed in the Gods, but they never responded when her Pharaoh was in dire need of some help. They hadn't saved him from the poisoned dart or that horrible attack when he was almost strangled to death. That 'King of Thieves' sounded dangerous and she could do nothing to help her friend. Frustrated, she twirled her wand around.

"Please be careful with that, Apprentice..!"

"I want to do something, I want to help!"

Mahaado took pity on her. He recognized her fear and frustration, and how badly she wanted to help out. He used his work as a distraction to not think about the severe implication of all the attacks, and he all but overlooked his Apprentice. He probably was too harsh on her, and the girl was suffering from her anxiety and worries about the Pharaoh… the same worries he had.

"You can help me with these lists," he said. "Would you like to do that?"

"Yes, please! I want to help!" Mana jumped up and smiled. She thought of hugging her Master, but decided quickly against it. All but skipping, she went to his large desk and grabbed one of the lists. She wanted to do everything it took to protect Atemu.

* * *

Atemu rested comfortably against a mountain of soft, fluffy pillows, a gold tray with a cup of tea and a small bowl with assorted figs and dates next to him. He looked up at Set, the tall High Priest hovering over him.

"What are your recent findings, Set?"

"This King of Thieves proves to be a real pain," the High Priest answered. "People are afraid of him, even when giving a hint of his name. Priest Akunadin was able to reconstruct a physical description, as you already know: bone white hair, chopped off roughly at the shoulders, and dressed in a red cloak. He wears rings and some necklaces; he likes to prance around with gold."

"And this gold is from his thievery?"

"He takes great pride in robbing tombs," Set answered, disdainful. "I took the liberty of strengthening the guards and security at the royal tombs, Great Pharaoh."

Atemu pursed his lips a little, as that was Mahaado's task; he was the captain of the guards of the royal tombs. He would probably clash about that with Set later, but Atemu didn't give it much thought. Both Priests were adults, they could battle their own fights.

"We do not know, however, if this… Bakura was his name, right? …if Bakura is also behind this second attack? I do not know a King of Thieves, and I do not know why he made me his enemy."

"You have _lots_ of enemies," Set said dryly. "You are the epitome of political power, and there are lots of people who would like to see you dead. Maybe the Syrian delegates are working together with this man."

"Nonsense," Atemu protested. "Keep yourself to the facts. You are not the kind of person to speculate."

"Indeed," Set said, and bowed to Atemu. "I will take back those words, Great Pharaoh. I have concluded my interrogations and I have decided to keep four people for further questioning."

"Very well. And the others?"

"Everyone else has been send home, of course."

"They came here for a public audience," Atemu said, slightly aggravated. "They traveled miles and miles to come see me or speak to me-"

"-or to kill you," the High Priest provided.

"See me or speak to me," Atemu repeated stubbornly. "I want the public audiences to be re-established as soon as possible."

"But Pharaoh! You have barely recovered…"

"I can wear a scarf around my neck or something," Atemu said. "I will not allow myself to be pushed into a corner because of some lunatic running around, claiming to be the King of Thieves. I will not be afraid of this man!"

"You are exposing yourself to danger too much."

"I have my Priests," Atemu answered a matter-of-factly. Set shook his head.

"Even we cannot protect you from everything, Great Pharaoh."

"Then we have to find a way to deal with these attacks and the King of Thieves before you have to bury me, my friend."

The High Priest nodded determinedly, but drew his lips into a pensive, small line.

* * *

"Why is everyone not here, yet?" Atemu looked around the large table, spotting the empty seats. To his surprise, both Mahaado and Shaadah were absent. Aishizu looked a little embarrassed for some reason, and Akunadin drummed with his fingers on the table.

"I suggest we get started." Set had his schedule to keep and safe for some horrible disaster, nothing would deter him in the slightest. Atemu scowled, not wanting to start without the other two Priests. Karim stared at the Sennen Scale in front of him as if the Item could give him an answer, and like the others, he was startled when the door flung open and Mahaado barged in, his long robes billowing behind him.

"What is the reason for your delay?" Set immediately demanded to know, tapping with his Sennen Rod against his upper arm. Mahaado took his seat after throwing Set a rather indignant look, but as usual the High Priest was unfazed by it.

"I was called to Shaadah's quarters unexpectedly," he said.

"Shaadah is sick?" Aishizu asked, her voice a little shrill.

Mahaado nodded. "I could clearly see that he ran a very high fever, and I had to give him one of my strongest brews to keep at least the nightmares away. He hadn't slept for quite a while now, and he was extremely restless."

Shimon shifted in his seat. "Do we need to take precautions? Is this contagious, Mahaado?"

"Not as far as I can determine," Mahaado said and looked at Atemu, who didn't wear his usual golden broad collar around his neck, but had wrapped a colorful scarf around his skin, hiding the hideous bruises from view.

"All right, we will start the meeting now," Set said. The High Priest had made lists out of everything and thanks to his efficiency, the Court was a well-oiled organization. Atemu was thankful that Set was so efficient and loyal; he wouldn't know what to do without him. While the High Priest was talking, Atemu looked at the other Priests. Mahaado was deep in concentration, following the list with his eyes and fingers. Akunadin seemed to have…dozed off? It was hard to figure out as one of the man's eyes was the Sennen Eye, which didn't bear an expression. Atemu couldn't make out if his other eye was closed as well, but the way his head was leaning on his chest left him to think the elderly man had drifted off. Aishizu blinked a few times, keeping her face in a painstakingly neutral expression. She had to be very bored. It was hard for a woman to keep herself upright between all those men, and Atemu sometimes took pity on her. However, a complaint had never crossed her lips.

They finished discussing the current affairs and the servants went around for another round of refreshments.

"Court dismissed," Atemu finally said and put the papyri and scrolls to his side for the clerks to roll them up and store them later.

Aishizu stood up, her robes rustling with the movement, as well as Karim, Akunadin and Set. Mahaado dallied a little, and as Atemu rose, he threw him a look that told him enough.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Atemu asked and the Priest nodded. It didn't escape him that Karim looked a little upset, but he let it slide – he had other business to attend to now. Set remained standing as well.

"I too would like to talk to you, Great Pharaoh."

As Mahaado didn't object to Set being there, Atemu assumed his seat again.

"What is it? I would like to keep it short so I can visit Shaadah," he said. Set clunked the Sennen Rod on the table.

"It is good that you brought up the subject," the High Priest immediately hooked in. "I have not spoken with Shaadah yet, but I suspect he has something to do with your… ah, latest attack, Great Pharaoh."

Mahaado widened his eyes. "Absolutely not!"

"Let me finish," Set barked, cutting Mahaado off. "At the last meeting, Great Pharaoh, while you were recovering, I noticed that Shaadah had abrasive skin, red welts on the palms of his hands."

"And?"

"Shaadah told me he went on horseback, searching for the culprit, but I asked the stable guards and they had not seen him leave. It was Karim who took out to search in the city, not Shaadah."

"What was Shaadah's claim to this?"

"That he chafed his hands on the horses' reins," Set said. "I think it is a little hard to believe."

"Shaadah is barely familiar with horseback riding," Atemu said, pensively. "It would explain why his hands would be immediately chafed from holding the reins longer than usual."

"Great Pharaoh," Set protested. "You cannot believe that!"

"It is a little strange, yes, but rather flimsy compared to the accusation," Atemu said. "I want to have more proof before I even think of suspecting him."

"Great Pharaoh, I am sure you can exclude him," Mahaado spoke up. "I have very firm grounds to believe that he was poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Atemu repeated, aghast. "Is he going to die?"

"No," Mahaado shook his head. "He is young and strong, and the poison was acute, not slowly administered. I am sure he will recover completely."

"Thank the Gods. But how-?"

"I do not know, but I suspect it to be mandrake root." Mahaado hated to bring bad news. "I have a list of all the alchemists in town, but I still have not determined how one would obtain mandrake root and process it like this…"

"Then pick out some guards and get your men onto it," Set said, impatiently. "Our lives are at risk here!"

"I decided to talk to our Pharaoh first," Mahaado objected. "If we start to rabidly search all over town, we could scare potential suspects away."

Atemu was pondering Mahaado's words. "We need to find out who could be responsible for creating the poison with mandrake root. Mahaado, I need you to double your efforts."

"As the Great Pharaoh wishes," the Priest answered. "I will do my very best."

Set snorted.

"Do you have anything to add?" Atemu asked his High Priest.

"Only one thing: I will not offer my apologies for suspecting Shaadah in the first place."

"I know you will not," Atemu said, and he couldn't help it, he was almost amused. For as efficient and loyal Set was, he was also extremely stubborn.

* * *

The Priests' quarters were located in the west wing: private rooms for each Priest, and a shared meeting room and a large living room, the same room where Aishizu held her sessions with her Tauk. Accompanied by four guards, Atemu breezed into west wing, startling the servants as his visit was unannounced. Rushed, Aishizu met him half-way and guided him towards Shaadah's room.

"He's still very restless," she told him. "The fever hasn't broken yet."

They reached Shaadah's quarters and Aishizu knocked politely before entering. The poor Priest was lying in his bed, lucid enough to open his eyes when the visitors entered. He recognized Atemu and panicked, upset about the Pharaoh seeing him in this condition.

"It is all right," Atemu said soothingly. "I just came to see how you were doing."

"Great Pharaoh," Shaadah said with chattering teeth, "You shouldn't approach me…who knows what I've caught…"

"You did take all of Mahaado's brews, right? You will get better if you take what he prescribes you."

"I know, Great Pharaoh," Shaadah said. He was tucked in, his body covered by blankets even though he was shaking from the cold. Could that be really the effect of poison? Atemu made a mental note to ask about the effects of mandrake root whenever he saw Mahaado again. He patted Shaadah on the foot end of the bed.

"Did you eat some, or at least drank some water?"

"Liters," Aishizu answered in Shaadah's place. "All to flush out the bad illness that runs through his body. We serve him tea with honey or water and make sure he drinks enough. That will help him."

Atemu nodded. Aishizu wasn't aware of the poison, it was better to keep that under wraps to avoid general panic and paranoia. How could anyone expect this to happen, that someone would actually try to poison a priest? _Or maybe it was meant for me, _Atemu thought bitterly. He absent-mindedly touched the colorful scarf around his neck. After two attacks in two days, he was becoming paranoid himself.

"Great Pharaoh? Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes I am, Aishizu," he quickly said. "Do not worry. I was just thinking... it is simply horrible to feel sick. I know you are taking good care of him, Aishizu."

"I couldn't do it without Mahaado's healing brews and potions," she said. "He'll recover, I'm sure of it, but I've never seen someone falling ill like this."

"He lost some weight," Atemu said. "The poor guy."

"Rest assured, we are taking very good care of him," Aishizu said, determinedly. "This illness won't get the better of him."

"Hopefully it is not as resistant as your willpower, then," Atemu said. "With the best care of the country, I am sure Shaadah will be on his feet soon enough."

He looked at the Priest who appeared to have fallen asleep. A servant dabbed the sweat drops on his forehead away, and Shaadah mumbled incoherently. Fever was such a dangerous thing; Atemu was grateful for Mahaado's extensive knowledge on how to beat it. The door to Shaadah's room opened and closed again, and Karim appeared next to his fellow Priest's bedside, carrying a bowl with fruit. Karim put the bowl on the wooden dresser and looked at Shaadah worriedly.

"Any improvement?" he asked.

Aishizu sighed softly. "His nightmares are gone, but the fever remains, unfortunately."

"He's going to need more of Mahaado's brews…"

Atemu listened to the others talk and knew that there was nothing he could do here. He had no healing knowledge and he would only be in the way of Shaada's caretakers. He decided to leave the others to do their work.

"Keep me up to date about his condition, Aishizu," he said and turned to leave.

"I'll escort you back to your quarters, Pharaoh," Karim said and bowed to him. "Your bandages need to be changed. Mahaado has taught us how, so we can all help you with it."

"Very well," Atemu said and after saying his goodbyes to Aishizu and the sleeping Shaadah, he went back to his own quarters, followed by Karim and his guards.

* * *

In his absence, the servants had replaced the bowls with fresh water and stacked more towels in both the bedroom and bathroom. Karim walked over to the dresser and took the small pot with ointment from the top drawer. Atemu sat down, his thoughts wandering off. He startled when he felt Karim's fingers on his neck.

"Ah!"

"Pharaoh! I didn't mean to startle you."

"My fault," Atemu said, slightly sheepish. "I should have paid attention."

"No, it's my fault," Karim said. "I should've warned you."

Atemu tilted his head as Karim carefully unwound the bandages. The tall Priest gently started to rub in the cooling, soothing ointment. Atemu hissed as the concoction touched his still abrasive skin. After the slight sting was gone, the healing, relieving properties of the balm felt so relaxing that Atemu slumped against Karim, completely trusting the other. He barely felt the clean wrap slipping around his neck. He did notice Karim's finger brushing his cheek – maybe it was just a clumsy movement, but Atemu didn't pay attention to it. The Priest finished fastening the clean bandages and put the lid on the pot again. He remained where he was, allowing Atemu to rest against his chest. It was silent; no advisors, Priests or clerks running around. It was a soothing moment; just like Mahaado, Karim possessed something that made him completely feel at ease and relaxed in the Priest's presence. Atemu's breathing hitched though, as he felt a hand in his hair, fingers stroking the strands. It was still soothing, still innocent…but Atemu couldn't deny the joy he felt from the attention.

"Pharaoh, are you asleep?" Karim whispered and Atemu didn't know why he didn't answer, but his voice simply refused to speak up. His throat was locked, and with his eyes closed and all but slumped against Karim's chest, it was not strange he thought that Atemu had fallen asleep. He couldn't suppress a soft shiver as the Priest touched his ear when caressing his hair. He didn't know how long he rested against Karim, but the lips on his cheek were new. Lips that traveled towards his own, kissing him… Atemu reacted before he realized it, opening his eyes and sighing into the kiss.

"Pharaoh," Karim said, surprised and he immediately moved away. He'd been convinced the other had been asleep, and he had just been cuddling and nuzzling him, wanting to taste his lips. Karim moved so quickly that Atemu almost keeled over, and he stretched both his hands to catch his fall, leaning on the chair.

"Karim…"

"I was out of line, Great Pharaoh. I overstepped boundaries I shouldn't have…" He grabbed his Item, the Sennen Scales, from the floor, with the intent to leave quickly.

"Karim, wait!"

He froze in mid-air, keeping his head averted. "Great Pharaoh…"

Atemu moved towards him and put his hand on the man's arm. "Karim, please. I am sorry if I did anything to make you feel…"

"It's not your fault," the Priest shook his head forcefully, "it's not your fault! I was out of line."

"I still am sorry," Atemu said. He bit his lip. He wasn't sure how to deal with the situation. Was he ready for love anyway? And what about Mahaado? He…liked Mahaado. Both were Priests, and then there was Mana. "Karim… I appreciate you as the Priest and valuable advisor you are. Your loyalty and dedication are outstanding." He smiled as he saw the taller man blush. Karim had worked for the late Pharaoh Akunamukanon, and Atemu knew that his father had been very sparse with compliments…but he meant every word he said, forcefully as it came from deep within him, truth and faith behind every word. Atemu moved up his hand, touching Karim's bicep. "I want you to be my Priest in my Court, and I want you to feel safe and comfortable."

"I always feel safe and comfortable around you, Great Pharaoh," Karim said and lowered his head. "Please do not discharge me from your service, I beg of you."

"Never," Atemu said, without skipping a beat. "Like I said, I want you to be my Priest in my Court…"

"Great Pharaoh…"

Their faces were closer than ever, and Karim's lips parted a little before placing them on Atemu's again. The Priest wrapped his arms around him for an embrace. Atemu just let it happen, allowing it to wash all over him, enjoying the kiss far more than he expected at first. _First…_ for some reason, he had always thought that Mahaado would be the one to kiss him first. After all, they'd been close from their youngest days; being trained and educated together…his father had never made it a secret that Atemu was free to choose however he wanted, even though he was fully aware of the importance of marriage and providing an heir. Atemu had always felt something for Mana, as she was the only woman in his life. She grew up with him and Mahaado, as a sister and friend… and perhaps something more? Karim intensified the kiss, his tongue gently roaming his mouth, and Mana disappeared from his mind. It was heavenly, and Atemu felt safe in his arms, almost melting away. It was surprisingly how gentle and careful the buff Priest could be. Finally they broke up the kiss; Atemu had fisted his hand in Karim's sash.

"Pharaoh," he softly whispered. Unconsciously, Atemu lowered his eyes, which was answer enough for the Priest. He loosened the embrace, his hands moving over Atemu's shoulders to his chin, gently cupping his face. "You will always have my love…my Pharaoh."

Atemu wasn't able to say something in return, as Karim picked up his Sennen Scales and had left his room before he could even think of stopping him.


	7. Chapter 7

"He is doing a lot better, that is for sure."

Mahaado was rather content as he checked Shaadah's progress. The Priest was still sweating, his body working hard to get rid of the foreign substance. Shaadah wouldn't be the first one to survive a poisoning, but he'd been very close to succumbing. _If I had not guessed it was mandrake root because it also had been on that dart, he probably would have died, _Mahaado thought bitterly. Any moment of doubt on how to treat the poison would've cost Shaadah his life. Now the Priest was safe, and he was on his way to a full recovery. Mahaado moved the bowl to the nightstand, beckoning the servant to come closer.

"If he wants something to drink besides water, give him this. Do not heat it up too often, though, it will get bitter."

"Yes, Priest Mahaado," the servant bowed to him.

Mahaado rose from his stool and heaved a sigh. He hadn't been able to save Pharaoh Akunamukanon… but Shaadah was at least safe. He didn't want to bury another person he called his friend. Set had hinted enough at him being slow or not decisive enough to find the one behind all of this - the one responsible for the poison. Mahaado hadn't even bothered to try to explain the difficulties to the grumpy High Priest. Aishizu put her hand on his shoulder.

"You worked so hard," she said. "Thanks to you, Shaadah will live."

"I had the good fortune to know what ailed him," Mahaado said.

"You think of poison, right?"

"Yes I do… very much so." Despite not having shared his suspicions, he wasn't surprised that Aishizu had worked it out for herself.

"I don't know exactly what's going on. First the Pharaoh, now a Priest… we all have to be extremely careful." She looked pensively, then she gave him a soft smile. "You look tired."

"It is the strain of the last few days," Mahaado answered truthfully. "The attacks on our Pharaoh's life, Shaadah poisoned…"

"Come," Aishizu insisted. "We can go to my room and have some tea."

"Tea sounds wonderful," Mahaado said. Aishizu blushed faintly, lowering her eyes. Her golden headpiece caught a flickering light of a candle and stressed the delicacy of the jewelry that framed her face. She reached for his hand, her slender fingers entwining with his. Now it was Mahaado's time to blush, grateful that the light from the candles was faint. He was bad at picking up signals, he knew it. He was so focused on the Pharaoh… his Pharaoh… _Atemu, _that he never had time or opportunity to notice what was happening around him. Mahaado would die for the Pharaoh, ever since Atemu had been the young Prince. The urge to protect him, to be with him, to love him above anything or anyone else was deep-rooted in his entire body and soul. Nothing was as important as Atemu…and in the years, when the young Prince had matured, he had grown to become more beautiful than Mahaado could ever hold for possible. The Priest had caught himself thinking of his best friend as a lover, but he had always kept those thoughts to himself - he was a Priest and nothing more. Aishizu was a very beautiful and graceful woman, and long since he had wondered what… if… the Priestess actually felt for him. With her hand in his, she guided him to her quarters, close to his own and Akunadin's. He followed her as if he didn't know where to go.

Aishizu's quarters were a mirror of her exquisite taste. The furniture, made from delicate wood yet strong enough to support a man's weight, was arranged so that the sun would shine on it, the rays of light falling through the high arched window, adorned with veil-like curtains to keep out any sand. Soft pillows with golden embroidery were scattered on the seats and sofa, flanked by smaller, dark wooden tables that held intricately carved statues. Aishizu motioned for Mahaado to sit down as a servant girl traipsed behind her, carrying a tray with all the necessities for tea. He chose the sofa and accepted the tea from the girl, heaving a soft sigh when he sipped the hot liquid. Aishizu send the servant girl away and offered Mahaado a choice between figs, raisins or sweetened bread. After some careful consideration, he took a slice of the sweetened bread. Aishizu also took one of the slices, nibbling on it delicately.

"The tension has been high lately," she said.

"Yes, what with the Pharaoh's life being in danger and all," Mahaado answered. "I keep wondering about this Bakura person, this King of Thieves who is so determined to... succeed." He left out the 'to kill the Pharaoh' part, but she understood nonetheless.

"He's extremely elusive," Aishizu admitted. "His motives are unclear to me, he seems to be guided by a deep hatred and anger. I've been keeping an eye on the Syrian delegates, but they were just as upset as everyone else."

"Did you... manage to catch a glimpse of the future... with the Tauk?" Mahaado asked, tentatively. While every Priest of the Court had an Item, it was an unspoken rule that a Priest never asked directly about the other Priest's Item. It was a personal matter. However, the Priests knew about the workings of each Item - and the Tauk was able to shown its wielder glimpses and images of the future, albeit the interpretation of these glimpses was complicated. Aishizu briefly rested her fingers on the jewelry.

"I caught images of what would happen if the attacker would succeed," she said, voice strained. "Such darkness, such… despair. It didn't warn me for the second attack. It's so… fickle, so random."

"That has to be frustrating." Mahaado was the wielder of the Ring; none of the other Items had powers containing to future-telling or predicting.

Aishizu nodded. "It is, it is. I have come to learn that the Tauk will never show me the immediate future, just glimpses of _a_ possible future… but it was quite clear in showing me those horrible images of our Pharaoh, dead, killed by that poisonous dart… I don't know why it chose to do that."

"Let us all hope the Gods will protect him." Mahaado sipped the tea again. "This is a particular good blend, Aishizu."

"Thank you," she said, enjoying the compliment. "It's one of my own. I like to try out different combinations to create a new blend."

"It is wonderful," Mahaado said. "It does not have a harsh, bitter taste, and it is not too sweet either."

She smiled. "I learned a lot from my mother, though I really can't remember how much she taught me…I was still so young."

"We retain many things from our youth, subconsciously or not," Mahaado said. "We have to have our traits from someone, do we not?"

Aishizu agreed, her smile turning wistful. She put her empty teacup on the tray and finished the piece of bread. "We haven't been able to talk much lately," she said. "I know you have a lot on your mind right now, Mahaado." The Priestess rose from her chair and walked over to one of the large wooden cabinets. She lit the oil lamp on top of it, the sesame seed based oil giving off an earthy, pleasant scent. Aishizu went to another cabinet to light a similar oil lamp, taking off her headpiece and, exposing her long, black hair. Mahaado put his teacup away and rose from his seat, closing the distance between him and the Priestess as she was about to lit a third lamp. He enveloped her hands with his.

"Aishizu."

She didn't move. She just looked at him. Mahaado wasn't sure what she had in mind, though he could take a guess at it. He didn't want to destroy their friendship and their kinship as Priests. Now that they were so close, he could smell her, a delicious, intoxicating scent of flowers, sandalwood and myrrh. Her beauty was undeniable, her kindness unmistakable… She moved their hands up, hesitantly, until she pressed them against his chest, exactly where the Ring rested.

"Is it heavy?" she asked.

"Rather," he answered, lowering his head.

"The Ring…or its burden?"

"Both." He knew what she was talking about. Wielding an Item came at a cost, and the life of a Priest was already loaded with duties and obligations. However, neither Mahaado nor Aishizu would want to give up their life because of that burden. They were raised and trained to take this position, and backing out wasn't in their job description. She disentangled her right hand to trace the cord of the Ring up to his neck, gently reaching for his skin and touching it.

"What makes your heart light?"

"What do you mean?"

"What makes your heart light…what makes it lift up and soar through the sky, singing with happiness?"

Mahaado closed his eyes briefly. He knew what she was aiming at and if he needed any more obvious pointers now, it all became clear when her fingers gently touched his lips and Aishizu leaned into him, pressing herself closer and tilting her head. He didn't deny her the kiss. He tasted the honey balm she had put on her soft, luscious lips, and her presence was overwhelming. The fragrant oils, her intoxicating scent, the beauty she presented, it could've swayed him, convinced him…but there was only one his heart completely belonged to. It wasn't fair, not to Aishizu… and not to Atemu. He didn't push her away, but he also didn't put his arms around her. They kissed, without the passion of lovers, but with a certain longing to fill up a void, of something missing, something that hadn't been attained yet. Aishizu pulled away, but not brusquely. She kept her eyes low, as if embarrassed.

"It's... it's not me, is it..?" she asked softly.

"What... what do you mean, Aishizu?"

"It's not me who's on your mind," she said. Her voice held a resigning tone. Feeling bad, Mahaado pressed a butterfly kiss on her forehead.

"Aishizu, I…"

"You don't have to tell me who it is," she said, and a soft smile appeared around her lips. "I already know."

He put his hands on her shoulders. "If you truly know, than you know why."

"Yes, I know," she said, not meeting his gaze. "It's admirable, Mahaado. I've always known how deep your loyalty ran. Maybe I was just telling myself that I had some kind of chance, a little opening…"

"I care for you," Mahaado said, touching the black strands of hair.

"I care for you too," Aishizu repeated, leaning with her head on his chest. He continued stroking her hair, trying to comfort her. She didn't cry, taking the rejection with her usual calmness. He didn't know how much it hurt her, and he didn't dare to ask, not wanting to add to her pain, and the intensity of the moment. Instead, they remained standing in front of the cabinet, in a strange, yet not uncomfortable embrace. "But it's not enough, is it?" She suddenly broke the silence. "Does he know?"

"No," he whispered. "And it is perhaps for the best if he does not. He is a son of the Gods."

"Mahaado… you're condemning yourself to a life of pain if you don't speak up."

"I will take whatever pain necessary to stay with him and serve him."

"I know." She pressed a hand to her face, and this time he could hear the hitch in her voice. "I should get back to work. I need to check up on Shaadah."

Mahaado cupped her face and tilted her head to make her look up at him. The tears flowed freely now, and he felt incredibly bad. He started to look for a handkerchief, but she put her hand on his wrist, stopping him.

"It's all right," she said.

"No." He shook his head. "I am so sorry, Aishizu. I should not…"

"Your love for him is going to get you killed," she blurted out, not caring that the tears drew black streaks all over her cheeks, the kohl around her eyes running from the moisture. "I'm not crying for myself, Mahaado. I'm crying for you. The Tauk showed me more than just our Pharaoh, dead. It also showed me…you, dead. I care for you. I don't want you to die!"

"Aishizu, I…"

"I want you to love me, as much as I love you," she whispered, "I want to be as devoted to you as you are to him. How can I be so selfish? But I saw… I saw…"

It was impossible for her to keep talking, as she all but flung herself into his arms. Mahaado didn't hesitate to provide her with the comfort she needed, allowing her to cry against his chest. What kind of man would he be to push her away in a state like this? Her words had shocked him, though. Not only what she had said about her own feelings, but also about her visions. Someone was after the Pharaoh and now, after the Priests. Was it Bakura, or were other forces at work? Gently, he held Aishizu in his arms. Right now, she deserved his attention more than anything else.

* * *

The life of an Apprentice was never boring. Quite so, Mana's life was busy, filled to the brim with her Master's one thousand and one odd jobs and errands. On top of that, she needed to study (lots and lots of spell books) and she had a natural urge to help everyone out. She had sometimes dropped her assignment in favor to help someone, aggravating Mahaado in the process - but she knew he appreciated her willingness to help someone in the first place. Mana was very energetic due to her young age, but her bounciness also came natural to her – and helped her a lot when running from one wing in the Palace to another. Now, she was on her way to Shimon to bring him an armload of scrolls, courtesy of both Mahaado and Set. She wondered why the tall High Priest pretended to be some kind of social. He wasn't very good at it. Mana raced through the hallways, dodging guards and servants, not about to be deterred from her assignment.

Shimon's quarters were located in the west wing, along with the Priest's quarters. Mana wondered why the elderly man needed so much room, but on the other hand, he was very important to the country and it wasn't her place to question things like that. It wasn't like the Palace was running out of room anytime soon. Mana adjusted her headpiece before knocking on the door; her Master had taught her the value of looking appropriate before barging in. After all, she was his Apprentice, and also his representative, as he liked to remind her. Mana took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The young servant answering smiled at her; everyone knew who Mana was. She went inside, carefully balancing the scrolls in her arms.

"Who's there?"

"It's Mana!" She left the antechamber behind her, entering the living room. The layout of these quarters was similar to Atemu's, and she moved around freely, turning her head from left to right, noticing the man standing close to a book cabinet.

"There you are," Shimon said, a little impatiently. He gestured dismissingly, pointing at the large, round table in the center of the room for her to put the scrolls on. Silently, Mana put the scrolls on the table, making sure they wouldn't roll off the smooth surface.

"That's fine, Mana," the vizier said and turned around at the same moment his servant wanted to offer him another cup of tea. A collision was inevitable, but the servant managed to keep the damage to a minimum, only spilling a few drops of liquid on the man's robes. Mana already thought of a spell to clean the fabric, when Shimon calmly backhanded the servant. She gasped in shock and horror. No one lifted a hand against a servant in the Palace, ever. If there was dissatisfaction about the work of a servant, it was dealt with in a discreet manner, never with violence. It astounded her that Shimon did this in her presence, uncaring that she was a witness to this behavior. To make it worse, the young servant barely flinched, as if he was used to it! She took a step forward.

"It was just an accident," she said. Shimon snapped his head towards her and she stepped back again, frightened by the look in his eyes. His kind and warm look was gone, replaced by the darkest hatred and disdain she had ever seen. It only lasted for a second and then it was gone again, leaving Mana in doubt. Had she really seen what she thought she'd seen?

"An accident that shouldn't have happened," the vizier said. "The servants in my quarters know that I don't tolerate mistakes like that. It's nothing to get worked up about, Mana."

"Shimon, I know a spell to get clothes clean…"

"No thank you… you would only burn them, Mana."

It used to be a joke around the Palace that Mana and her _heka _often had the opposite effect and that she was more prone to destroying things than fixing them, but she had improved a lot lately, and she was on her way to become a powerful magician, just like Mahaado. Shimon's rude remark hurt her. She barely recognized the man. Shimon never behaved like this; he was always so grandfather-like, compassionate, wise and calm. Mana pursed her lips into a thin line and turned around brusquely. Without saying a proper goodbye, she left his quarters. She knew it was incredibly impolite, but if he had a problem with it, he could take it up with her Master, and then she would give him an earful!


	8. Chapter 8

Since his fever had broken, Shaadah's breathing was more regular and stronger. His body temperature had gone down and while still sweaty, he wasn't feeling as hot as before. The poison was slowly, very slowly, being driven out, thanks to Mahaado's special concoction. He wouldn't have to fear he was going to die. He felt weak, but he was on the mend. Shaadah was thinking about how he could thank his fellow Priest. If Mahaado hadn't figured out what had happened to him… mandrake root. Who would ever think of poisoning a Priest? So close after the attacks on the Pharaoh… Shaadah opened his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Someone was in the antechamber of his quarters.

"Who's there?" he asked, voice a little raspy. It had to be a servant, or perhaps it was Aishizu visiting him? She had been very concerned and had helped taking care of him, when his health was failing. Her calm and cool touch had been reassuring and comfortable, when he thought he was dying from the poison. No answer. Strange. A servant or a guest would've announced himself by now. After his last visit, Mahaado had ordered him plenty of rest, and had reduced the number of servants hovering over him. Shaadah appreciated the silence, but well… lying in bed all day was boring. A visitor was something to look forward to, to break the long, long day. "Who's there?" he repeated.

This weak body! If he had the strength, Shaadah would've gotten out of bed to see for himself what was going on. Maybe he just misheard…? No, the door had opened and closed, he was sure of it. Someone was in his quarters, and a sudden darkness befell him, a feeling of great discomfort and unease. Shaadah shifted in his bed. What had felt like a safe fortress to him, was now restricting him. If he were to call the guards, how soon could they be here?

"I wouldn't." He didn't recognize the low voice. "I know you want to call for your precious guards. Do so, and I'll kill them all."

Shaadah swallowed. For some reason, he knew the stranger was speaking the truth. Craning his neck, he tried to see who had entered his bedroom - and his eyes went wide. The dark red cloak, the choppy bone-white hair…

"Bakura," he said, his throat dry.

"I prefer to be called King of Thieves." The man showed a menacing grin that crinkled the large scar on his cheek. Displaying his remarkably white teeth, Bakura narrowed his brown-reddish eyes and stepped forward, moving around as if he was an invited guest.

"Leave, you fiend," Shaadah said.

"Hear, hear." Bakura's eyes darted through the room, until he spotted the golden Ankh on the dresser. Shaadah couldn't stand being separated from his Item, just like the other Priests, and the servants had put it as close to him as possible. He followed Bakura's gaze, and he coughed and wheezed when realization hit him.

"No! Don't you dare! Don't touch it!"

Bakura walked over and picked up the Item, holding it in his hand as he weighed it. "Exquisite," he said, "but nothing compared to the other Items. This one's used to enter the soul, isn't it?"

"You have no right!" Shaadah tried to get up, wrestling himself free from the sheets. "Put it right back!"

"This one is mine." Bakura grinned at the helpless Priest. "Look at you. I see that at least one of you has been smart enough to figure out what was going on. I won't be underestimating him or the rest… But you, my dear bald Priest… you might've escaped death, but you won't escape this."

All of the sudden, he pressed the Item into Shaadah's hands. Surprised, the Priest looked at him, shocked at how close Bakura's face was to his. The feelings of discomfort tripled as the menacing look on the thief's face scared Shaadah beyond belief. He curled his fingers around his Item, panting harshly.

"You want to take a look at my soul, don't you?" Bakura straightened himself, amused. "Why, go ahead. Take a look and tell me what you see!"

Breathing heavily, Shaadah lifted up the Item. "Show me…" he whispered, as cold sweat trickled down his face. Bakura held his arms wide, as if he was embracing what was about to come. The Ankh lit up brightly, enveloping the thief in a warm glow - but there was nothing warm about the darkness that invaded Shaadah's mind as he glanced into Bakura's soul. Darkness, the darkest black and shadows he'd ever seen, whirling around violently, snapping at each other and curling around each other in a choking hold; so much anger, violence and darkness that it took his breath away. And in the midst of it all, a monster - a _kaa_ so powerful that it shook his entire body.

"Do you like my Diabound?" Bakura's voice came from afar, piercing Shaadah's trance. "Take a good look at him - he'll be the end of you all!"

"It can't be!" Shaadah felt his energy drain away. The fear, the paralyzing fear - it had taken a hold of his body. He wanted to run, as the _kaa_ came closer; shaking and trembling, he saw Diabound, half human, half… monster, with a tail with the head of a snake at the end of it, emitting a power that consumed the Priest. Shocked by what he saw, his already weakened body collapsed, and without any strength left, the Ankh slipped from his hand. Bakura caught the Item before it fell to the floor, and laughed.

"Do you know now what you're up against?" With the Item firmly clutched to his chest, Bakura took one step forward and put his right foot to Shaadah's chest, pushing him back onto the bed. Unable to put up a fight, he rolled onto his back, still gasping. Bakura pressed harder and Shaadah's eyes went wide, his mouth open in a tormented struggle to breathe. The thief's foot started to crush his chest, and with a deranged grin on his face, Bakura pressed harder and harder.

"Shaadah? Is someone with you?" The familiar female voice resonating through the antechamber stopped Bakura in his tracks, but he didn't withdraw his foot.

"Aishizu," Shaadah sobbed. "No…!" His voice was barely audible.

"I brought you something to eat," the Priestess said while the sound of her rustling robes announced her arrival. "You could really use some…" Aishizu entered the bedroom while talking, and she froze on the spot as soon as she saw Bakura. "You…!"

Bakura hadn't moved and certainly didn't hide what he was doing. Tilting his head, he looked at Aishizu, both expectantly and curiously. She met his gaze, refusing to show her fear.

"You're the darkness I saw," she said. "The hatred, the anger…"

"Aishizu… run!" Shaadah wheezed. The Priestess however, didn't seem able to move, as she was transfixed by Bakura.

"That's a pretty necklace," he grinned. "Should I thank the Gods for their goodness, as they grant me two Items at once?"

"How dare you mock them?" She noticed the Ankh in his hand. "What are you after?"

"Aishizu!" Shaadah tried to cry out, and everything happened at the same moment. Aishizu dropped the small bowl with food and turned around to run away, but Bakura was faster. He grabbed her slim wrist, yanked her back and he hooked the Ankh under her Tauk, all but tearing the necklace away from her. The cord snapped and she shrieked in pain and surprise. The thief twisted her arm cruelly and forced her to the floor. Aishizu had no choice but to obey and she knelt down, holding back her tears.

"Weak," Bakura repeated. "It's never fun to toy around with the weak. Only the strong are worthy enough to torture and break. You're only here to whet my appetite." Discarding the Priestess, he walked over to where the Tauk had dropped to the floor and he picked it up. "You can scream for the guards if you want to," he said.

"I don't want good men to be killed needlessly," Aishizu said. She moved her arm and her _dia d'ankh_ unfolded. "Spi…" Bakura shot forward and landed his hand in her neck before she could finish calling for her _kaa_. With a soft sigh, her body went limp.

"Fiend! Leave her alone!"

Bakura didn't bother answering. Instead, his face held a greedy, eager look as he stared at the two Items, the Ankh and the Tauk, in his hands. He stepped over Aishizu and walked back to the antechamber. Shaadah couldn't believe that the thief was just going to _walk out_ of his quarters, the same way he had arrived. _Who is this man… no, what is this man? _He called Aishizu's name a few times, softly and hesitantly, afraid that Bakura would return. Nothing but silence. He had to wait for the Priestess to wake up, if she ever would; from his position in the bed, Shaadah hadn't been able to see if Bakura had knocked her out or killed her. He sunk into prayer, desperately praying for help.

* * *

"Great Pharaoh, Shimon Muran is here to see you." The young servant bowed to Atemu and kept his head low, not looking the son of the Gods straight in the eyes. Atemu had left his private quarters to work at the library, situated in the north wing of the Palace. Here, almost no sound would reach him and with the exception of the guards in front of the door, he was all alone. He could focus his concentration without interruptions, but so far, Atemu hadn't done any reading or working. The only thing on his mind had been Karim, and his kiss. How could he not have noticed his Priest having… feelings for him? And what did he feel in return? Karim was strong and protective, and he made him feel so safe and at ease. But it was unfair to Mahaado, his friend since childhood. The magician-Priest had always been a stable, naturally, obvious support and companion in his life. He had expected Mahaado to give him his first kiss; Karim had taken him by surprise, but not a surprise he was going to protest too much. What did this all mean? What did it say about him?

"Very well, send him in." Atemu rolled up the papyri he was supposed to be reading. His hand went briefly to his neck, adjusting the colorful scarf. As per Mahaado's advice, Atemu refrained from wearing the heavy golden necklace until his skin had fully healed. The dark bruises had turned yellowish; the healing process went much too slow to his liking.

"Great Pharaoh, how are you today?"

"I am fine, Shimon. It is good to see you."

The bond between vizier and Pharaoh was a strong one. After Akunamukanon's passing, Shimon didn't take over as a 'father'. He consoled Atemu in his grief, but treated him as an adult - Atemu was thirteen at the time, and as the Prince, now Pharaoh, he was old enough to rule the entire country. He assisted him with his valuable advice, always on the background, always there to listen and to help. His presence was a given one; Shimon had served the royal family for generations. To seek the Pharaoh actively out though, was something that alarmed Atemu. He hadn't expected the vizier to look for him in the library; it had to be important.

Shimon stood next to Atemu's desk and waited. Even the most revered vizier didn't boss the Pharaoh around. Atemu got up from his chair and guided Shimon towards the seats close to the large window, which were more comfortable than the regular library stools. Another servant brought refreshments and left discreetly. Atemu took it to himself to serve Shimon, pouring the elderly man some palm wine.

"Thank you, Great Pharaoh." Shimon waited until Atemu finished pouring himself water, knowing that the Pharaoh wasn't very fond of wine.

"What would you like to talk about, Shimon?"

"In the light of the… previous events, there's something you should know." Shimon's eyes traveled to Atemu's neck, then darted back to his goblet of wine. "Of course, not much is being held from you. You have your Priests, you have me, to inform you about daily life, the people, the nation… but Great Pharaoh, there's something brewing that might affect your view on the people involved, and it might muddle your judgment and understanding of what's going on."

Atemu leaned forward. "What do you mean, Shimon? My father was honest and fair in life, and I can not think of any dark or deep secret that he could keep from me, neither my Priests would…"

"It's not like that, Great Pharaoh." Shimon shook his head. "It's about the relationship between two people that might be a considerable influence on everything."

Atemu turned red. For a moment, he truly feared that Shimon would talk about him and Karim. Had anyone seen them kiss?

"It has to do with one of your Priests, or two, actually," Shimon said. "Priest Akunadin has been at the Palace about as long as I have. Therefore, I think it's imperative that you should finally know this. He is your late father's brother."

"What?" Atemu spilled his water. "Why was I never told?"

"Your father was a wise man, but he thought that it wasn't important that you knew about this." The vizier sipped his wine. "He was afraid that knowledge about this relationship would cause prejudice or favoritism. He wanted you to have an objective and fair view on all of your Priests."

"But, he is family!" Atemu exclaimed, almost aghast. He'd never thought in a million years that he would be related to the silent, aloof Priest. He wanted to shudder. "How can this knowledge… of Akunadin being my uncle… be tied to what's going on in the Palace?"

"Everything, Great Pharaoh," Shimon answered gravely. "_Everything_. For you see, though Akunadin doesn't covet the throne for himself, he wants to secure it for another person."

Atemu frowned. Akunadin coveting the throne? A political coup?

"Akunadin had a family of his own," the vizier continued, not disturbed by Atemu's growing discomfort. "He left his wife and son to serve his brother, the Pharaoh, as best as he could. He was always there, standing in the shadows, serving, showing his loyalty and dedication… but he _wasn't _the Pharaoh, and in his long life, envy and jealousy started to grow and infest. The shock was hard on him when his son followed in his footsteps. The same vocation for Priest came to him as well."

"His son is a Priest at the Court? Both father and son are a Priest, here?" Atemu couldn't keep the growing surprise out of his voice.

"Yes," Shimon said. "Set is Akunadin's son."

"Set is…Akunadin's son?" Atemu repeated. Shimon nodded, his face sincere.

"Yes, Great Pharaoh. I'm afraid that the attempts on your life are Akunadin's doing, to make sure that after your death, his son will ascend to the Throne."

"I can not believe it," Atemu said. "Akunadin has always been very loyal. Not once has he ever shown or indicated any resentment or hatred towards me…"

"Of course he hasn't," Shimon said, almost airily. "He's a cunning man, Great Pharaoh. He has the patience of a saint when it comes to putting his plans to work. When these plans of his come to fruition…"

Atemu stared at his vizier, abhorred. "I refuse to believe it!"

"I strongly advice you to heed my words, Great Pharaoh. Akunadin want his son on the throne. He knows his own days are almost over, just like mine. We're old, but not dead yet! Before he dies, he wants his son to take the place that was denied to him when your father, his brother, took up the throne and became Pharaoh. You have to believe me!"

Atemu shook his head. "It still does not make any difference. I refuse to believe that one of my own Priests is behind the attacks and wants to see me dead."

Shimon threw his hands up in despair. "Great Pharaoh! This is a very dangerous situation. He already tried twice, and poisoned Shaadah to boot, what more is he capable of? Akunadin likes the work in the shadows, unnoticed until it's too late. I don't want to bury another Pharaoh."

Atemu lowered his eyes. "My apologies, Shimon. I did not mean to doubt your words. But what you are telling me… does Set know?"

"No, Great Pharaoh. Akunadin left his family to answer his vocation for priesthood, not aware in the last that his own son would end up at the same Court. Set was too young to remember."

"Did he ever talk to him about it?"

"I don't know. Akunadin has his own reasons," Shimon merely said, shrugging. "I must say, Great Pharaoh, in all those years we both served the royal family and the Court, we never talked much. He's not the kind of person to interact socially, or abundantly. I only know because Akunadin told me himself…a slip of the tongue, but I had overheard. He asked me not to tell anyone and I respected his wish until now."

Shimon finished the last of his wine. Atemu remained silent. To think that Akunadin was Set's father… and Set hadn't the slightest idea of his relation to the elderly Priest. Akunadin had created such a distance between himself and his son that it was probably impossible to overcome. _Two attacks in two days. Akunadin is Set's father, and he wants to put him on the throne. Would he really go through this kind of trouble? If Akunadin really likes to work in the shadows, would he have chosen such open attacks like these? Or is the King of Thieves his henchman, doing all his dirty work?_

"Would you like some more water, Great Pharaoh? It's very refreshing."

"Yes, thank you." Atemu took the cup from Shimon and drank, just to busy his hands.

"I'm sorry if I disrupted your afternoon with this, ah, revelation," Shimon said. "I know this news must be hard to take…"

"It is quite the revelation," Atemu agreed. "To think that Set is my cousin…well, if he does not know he is Akunadin's son, he probably does not know that he is my cousin either."

"I'm fairly sure the High Priest is unaware of it all. Akunadin was very strict to him during his studies, never showing any sign of parental love. I'm very sure that Akunadin never talked to Set about this."

Atemu stared into his cup, pondering. Would it be helpful to Set if he knew all about this, or would it hinder him in his daily life? Not everyone got to learn one day to another that they were related to the son of the Gods. "I will take into consideration what you have said, Shimon," he finally spoke. "Let us keep this between ourselves for now. I am grateful that you told me, but I am not going to inform Set at this time."

"That might be for the best," Shimon agreed. "It might confuse him, or cause huge strain between him and Akunadin, and it could spiral into a very bad, bad situation."

"Set does not even _want_ the Throne," Atemu muttered. "He would simply refuse, and Akunadin's plan would fail."

"Nonetheless, he would plunge Khemet into darkness and despair," Shimon said ominously. "You have to be careful, Great Pharaoh. We can't afford to lose you."

"Do not worry," Atemu said. "I was not planning to give into any kind of darkness soon."

Shimon looked at him, a faint smile lingering on his lips. "You are far stronger than that."

"With the help of my Priests and my vizier," Atemu said.

"With our help, yes," Shimon repeated, contently.


End file.
